Chapter 3

2:56 a.m., June 30

I don’t even remember how I got to the park.  I don’t even remember what happened.  All I remember was waking up and checking the time.

3:56 a.m.

I swung my legs back and pushed, making the swing lurch forward.  Leaning back,  I let my black hair fall over my shoulders.  I sighed, the stars glittering in the heavens above me and the moon drenched the sky in a deep silver.  There’s no way I’d want to go back to my home.

My dad’s probably pacing, muttering insults about me, and screaming at my mum.  Telling her how stupid she is for letting me leave the house.  I don’t care.  

When I was a little girl and wasn’t aware of how horrible my broken family was, I remember I would ask my mum,” What are the color of tears?”

“Tears aren’t a color.  Tears aren’t blue, either.  The color of tears are simply determined by why the are crying.  By what they are feeling at the time they are crying.  It is rare, but if you look close enough, you can see a rainbow, like a bubble” My mum would whisper in my ear.  

And I would marvel at her words.  “And why is that?”

“No one knows, but shush.  No one must know, it’s our little secret.”

“Not even Alaska can know?”  I was excited at that thought.  My mum and I.  Not my mum and Alaska and put to the side as an outcast.

“Not even Alaska.”  My mum would smile, caress my face, and tuck my hair behind my ear.

I swear if I was crying right now, I would’ve cried tears as dark as the night sky.  That’s how bad I felt at this time.  I should go home.  I walk past a liquor store, the urge to buy a pack of cigarettes is hard to ignore.  I shove the thoughts of taking a drag from a cigarette to the back of my mind.  I remember that after Alicia’s death, I swore to stop smoking.  But right after the funeral, I couldn’t help but burst into tears and smoke.  I recall sobbing and pleading for her to forgive me, even though I knew she couldn’t hear me.  

I rang the doorbell.  My mum opened the door, tears brimming her eyes.

“Where the hell were you?  You think you can just come and go as you please?  This is my house and in my house you follow my rules,” my father said sharply.

“You think I care?”  I snapped.

“You don’t talk to me in that tone of voice and that you don’t get whatever you want as long as you’re living in my house”

I laughed harshly.  “Your house?  As if i’d want to live here.  This is your house, as you call it.  I hope this is as close to hell I’ll ever get to.”

He raised his hand, his face flushed a deep scarlet, preparing to strike me across my face.  I smiled at his intense movements.

My mum touched his shoulder gently.  “Steve, calm down”

He struck her hard across her cheek.  “You do not tell me when to calm down,” he warned.  He left the room, leaving my mum and I alone.  I averted my eyes to the kitchen doorway.  There stood Alaska, her eyes looking down at the floor.  She walked cautiously up to our room, fearing that our father would unleash his wrath on her.  I sighed and followed her upstairs.  “You’re right.  Why do we live in this hell?”  Alaska murmured, her hands over her face.  I didn’t answer.  Not even I knew the answer to that question.  I closed my eyes tightly, falling into a restless sleep.

-Sarah

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This chapter reveals an amazing assortment of lyrical observations while swinging under the night sky & the true-to-life dialogue within a broken family. So much of this is EXACTLY the way it was within my own broken childhood home. Luckily, my distant parents were too self-absorbed to notice if I came or went. This is very intense reality . . . no fancy writing needed, as the old saying goes: "trust your material" (which you have done). Here you convey the honest drama of real life (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Coyote Poetry]

A lot of life shared in the chapter. I liked the internal thoughts. You are create a explosions situation my friend. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote