In Loving Memory

Stage 3: Depression

Thursday, May 7, 1998.

"Alicia!" My mother rushed over to me. "Where were you? I've been paging you like crazy!"

I put my hands up in defense, slipping off my jacket and hanging it onto the coat rack. "I'm sorry mom, my pager died. I went out with Bey and then I went to do some studying at the library."

"Well, please, just remember to charge it next time, okay? You know I don't like it when I don't know where you are."

I nodded. "Alright, mom. I'm sorry again."

My mom didn't reply. She simply sat down at the kitchen table, looking down at her hands.

I went into the fridge for a soda and cracked it open. "What's wrong, mom? Was everything alright?"

She looked at me. She had on the expression she gives whenever she has to give bad news or is upset about something. "Have a seat, Alicia."

Cautiously, I took a seat across from her. "Mom, if this is about that D I got on my math exam, I can explain."

"Alicia," she sighed deeply. "I got a call from Tina just a moment ago."

"Okay?" I had no idea where she was going with this. "Don't tell me she found out Bey and I were together. I got her home on time and everything; her curfew isn't for another three hours."

"Honey, Beyoncé is in the hospital. Tina found her...um, hanging in her bedroom." My mom said softly. "They think she tried to commit suicide."

I jolted out of bed, panting heavily. My heart thumped wildly in my chest, feeling as if it would break through and fall out right then and there.

For a minute, I just sat there, trying to regulate my breathing. After I was breathing normally again, tears began to sting my eyes and before I knew it, I was sobbing.

I had pushed that day back deep into my repressed memory the very moment it happened. I never wanted to think about it ever again. I never even wanted to accept that it had transpired.

It was truly the worst day of my life.

I let myself cry for what felt like forever, until my tear ducts dried up. I looked over at my clock on my nightstand. 4 in the morning.

I sighed and laid back down in my bed, closing my eyes.

Hours later, my alarm blared and I groggily smacked the off button. The last thing I wanted to do today was go to school, but I knew my mom wouldn't let me stay home. So, I gathered up as much strength as I could and went to get ready.

After a well-needed shower and brushing of my teeth, I got dressed and went downstairs.

Surprisingly, my mom was already up, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. She looked at me out the top of her reading glasses.

"Good morning sweetheart," she greeted.

"Morning, mom." I replied, grabbing the plate of breakfast she made for me and a sheet of aluminum foil. I was hoping I could get past her and out of the door before she questioned me.

But, as usual, I didn't get lucky. "Wait honey, you've still got an hour before you need to be in school. Don't you want to sit down and eat?"

I scratched an itch on my arm and shook my head. "I'm okay, mom. I really gotta get going."

"Oh, well, okay." she said softly. "How are you feeling?"

Without really thinking, I answered, "I'm okay."