A week later, we were having a tea party with your mother.
It was your birthday and your mother's way of apologizing for the absence of your father and recent events. But you didn't know that.
You were dressed up in your favorite gown, an exact replica of Princess Tiana's. The benefits of having a rich daddy.
You were serving the "tea", which was actually hot chocolate. You lifted the cup to my stitched lips, and tilted it, making slurping noises as though I were actually drinking it.
A click was heard, and the polaroid photo slipped out of your mother's antique camera. The camera was her second most favorite thing, the first being you.
She excused herself to the bathroom but you thought nothing of it.
You dressed me up with the outfit the seamstress had made for me.
I felt like a princess as we hopped and rolled on the bed, the maintenance of your dress being long forgotten in the midst of your happiness.
Time passed, and the hot chocolate eventually became cold. You pouted unhappily and ran out of the room with me in tow.
"Mama! Mama! Tea!"
But your mother was nowhere to be found.
You ran down the stairs in search of her.
Quickly thinking that your mother was playing hide and seek, you began searching under beds and in cupboards.
You eventually gave up and decided to wander to your parents' bedroom. You heard the water running in the bathroom, and you glanced in.
The bathtub was slowly filling up with red-tinted water, fresh blood flowing from the six red lines carved on your mother's wrist. The polaroid photo slipping from in between her fingers and falling gently to the tiles of the bathroom floor.
You ran to her side.
"Mommy! Mommy! I found you! You lost, I won! You can stop pretending now!" The game of hide-and-seek was officially over, your r's fixing themselves.
But your mother wouldn't budge.
She had committed suicide. But you didn't know that.
You only looked at the rivers of red and her pale skin, wondering when your beautiful mama would wake up.
She never did.
And you knew that.