One

My mother had once told me that I would come to a point in my life where I would have to be without her, that there would be nothing left for her to teach me and that I would have to be good and listen and trust the people that truly wanted to help me. I was only seven years old and had no idea just how important those words would become, but even then, when I was young and void of any genuine obligation to understand, what she said still felt heavy for my body to carry. I would later learn that that weight was what truth felt like when it was hard to hear. 

 

  Four years later, a few months after my eleventh birthday I was pulled from my biology lesson. My school was a private institution and for this term I was a boarder. I had never been a boarder before, but it was explained to me that my mother and father were reaching a critical point in a certain aspect of their research that meant my care had been entrusted to the school. My father was a doctor of anthropology and my mother was a journalist, so this didn't strike me as odd. I was mature for my age and had already rationalised that it was only a temporary arrangement. I kept to myself mostly and got on with my work using my spare time to further my academic success just to pass the time. 

 

  But I was being pulled from class... it didn't feel right. 

  

  I looked up at my professor who had put down his chalk and suffered over a grave but somewhat sympathetic smile that was weak with indecision on whether it was the correct form of expression. I did not smile back but whilst standing from my desk pleaded silently with wide eyes for an explanation of what was going on. I received no such explanation and with great apprehension followed quietly out of the lab towards the Headmistresses office.

 

  The person to collect me was a councillor named Mrs Harrison- odd that she should be the one they send. This is wrong…

 

  There it was again- an unshakeable foreboding.

 

  “Have I done something wrong, Mrs Harrison?” My voice sounded unfamiliar to me. Shaky with nerves that at eleven are impossible to conceal.

 

  “No, love. No, you haven’t.” It was a response laced with things unsaid. She wasn’t allowed to tell me. I realised that I would have to wait for answers and so I quietly followed along.

 

  Reaching the end of the main hallway, we finally halted at the big mahogany door that had a golden plaque inscribed ‘Prof. Colehayes’. Mrs Harrison knocked twice and stepped aside as she opened the door for me, ushering me in. I did as I was expected and heard as the heavy door clicked shut behind us. It sealed the air in and as it settled, I could smell the decomposing pages of old books, dust, wood polish and coffee.

 

   The room was a fine example of the type that this building housed. The building itself was a convent at one point but had later become a private school focusing on the sciences. I was particularly gifted with biology, closely followed by chemistry and so the school had conditionally waived any fees as long as my grades remained consistently good. My parents being esteemed professionals at the top of their respective fields had clearly influenced this decision, and though the pressure should have gotten to me, it so happened that I was a natural and had never considered any grade below an A.

 

  The carpet was old and discoloured but at some stage it had been a wine red. There was a beautiful varnished oak desk to the rear of the room, directly ahead and above it an impressive stained-glass window depicting a mother cradling her child beneath a star. I assumed religious, but I couldn’t know for sure. Either way, I found there was a profound degree of affection captured in the simplicity of the image, and it made me miss home. Swallowing the sickness down, I moved forward and prepared myself for whatever I was about to experience.

 

  Looking to the headmistress for the first time, I stopped dead when I saw a group of people all stood, presumably waiting for me. Looking at each of them, I counted the headmistress, my chemistry professor, the deputy principle, another councillor I had never met but knew to specialise in grievance and then three others I had never met. My stomach dropped and my heart began to race.

  “Ms… what is this?” My words again faltered a little and I could feel the tremble in my voice. But it wasn’t my headmistress who was the first to speak- that alone was unnerving. Professor Colehayes had always been a loud and overbearing woman with absolute authority. But at this moment, she was silent, composed and grim. The whole room conveyed the same grimness.

  “Hello Hope… do you know me?” It was a woman who was the first to address me. She had golden hair like my own, but her eyes were almost black yet large and almond shaped. She had a small, straight, narrow nose and full but proportionate lips. Her complexion seemed grey with fatigue and blotchy as if she’d been crying, yet beneath that I could tell she glowed with health. She was beautiful, and familiar. I shook my head though. I knew in my heart that I should know her, but I couldn’t see how.

  “My name is Claire… uh, this is my husband, Adam.” She seemed to struggle. She wanted me to know her, to remember her. It was clear in the way she furrowed her brow and left her lips parted, hesitating to go on just in case she supressed a memory by talking too much. I stared back at her with green pools of confusion. She went on;

  “Hope”- she sat forward and rubbed her palms across her jeans. My palms were perspiring too. The tension was keeping my nerves in an agonizing position of suspension, like a climbing rollercoaster reaching the summit of a dead drop. “I’m your Mothers younger sister. We met when you were born, but I suppose you won’t remember.”

  I blinked in disbelief and said nothing but kept staring.

  “No… “ She smiled with a gentle sadness and nodded slowly. “Of course, you don’t remember. That’s okay…”

  “Why are you here?” I hadn’t said the words, but they’d left my mouth regardless. With no way of going back, I put forward a question with a little more tact to right myself. “I meant to say… why have you come to visit me now? Do my parents know? Are they coming too?” I felt like a dam that had finally breached its walls. The questions came flooding and I had to catch my breath to pause long enough for anyone to answer any of them.

  “Hope,” It was Professor Colehayes, “Sit down, would you dear?”

  Dear…

I sat, my knees together, my hands rested. The door opened behind us once again and I turned just enough to see Mrs Harrison creep back into the room. She stood a way behind me and the room seemed to settle, like every chess piece was now in place. This was it, I thought. Whatever I was called here for, I was about to hear it. I let my eyes focus on the headmistress, but I could see from my peripherals that Claire had taken Adams hand from her shoulder and held it tightly.

  “Hope, there was an accident. Your parents were involved, and I am afraid your father didn’t make it. Your mother is being kept under sedation, but she is very unwell, love… very unwell.” Her voice had never sounded so sincere. All the bellow had been removed and she spoke softly to me. “I need you to tell me you understand what it is that I’m telling you, Hope. It’s very important that you understand.”

  All the air from my lungs escaped in a sharp inward gasp, my body petrified stiff with grief as my heart bruised as it threw itself into my rib cage. I felt my blood run cold and I shuddered as the shock set in. My eyes stung as boiling tears swelled and spilled onto my cheek. I could feel my pupils dilate as my body struggled for oxygen. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

  “I need you to say it, love. I understand that this is the hardest thing that you could have ever imagined hearing today, and we are all here to help you through what comes.”

  I mustered a scattered nod as I heaved for breath through my tears. Warm arms fastened around me and I crumbled beneath their support, my whole frame collapsing as I sobbed. I saw the pastel blue wool of the cardigan that Mrs Harrison had been wearing and realized she was the one who was holding me. She hushed me and rubbed my back, stroking my hair, uttering menial words of comfort that she knew would never help but couldn’t think of anything better to say to me. Claire also came rushing to me and knelt down in front of my chair. She cleared the blond mass of hair from my red face and wiped my tears as best she could before forcing me to look at her. She was crying too as she held my head up. “I’m sorry, Hope… I’m so sorry.”

 

  I woke up and checked my wrist for the time; 6:15 pm. I was still in the headmistress’s office, but I had been moved to the leather couch by her bookcase. A coat had been put over me and the pastel blue cardigan had been balled up beneath my head. It all came back to me then. My father was dead and my mother was expected to follow. I wanted desperately to cry again, but my eyes were dry. All that I had left was an aching in my chest and a heaviness in my limbs. My head was throbbing. I began to sit up when I heard Claires voice again. “You’re awake… how are you feeling? Here, let me help…” I would have refused the help but her arms guided my torso and as I sat upright, the harsh truth was that I couldn’t manage by myself right now. I looked up at her and shrugged.

  “Do I have to leave the school now?” Was all I could manage.

  She nodded. “Yes. I am afraid you will. But don’t trouble yourself over that for now.” Rubbing her arms, she smiled kindly at me and I noticed then that I liked her. She was familiar because she looked like my mother. I just hadn’t been able to see that until she smiled at me. Her cheeks had dimples and her eyes smiled when her lips smiled. “Hope, I think when you’re ready, we should go and see your mother. Of course, I understand you might be afraid… and you might feel like right now it’s the last thing you want to do, but I want you to think about it carefully. I don’t need to tell you why its best that you see her… I know you’re a smart girl who’s figured it out.”

  I lowered my head. Biting my lip as my eyes began to sting again, I spoke quietly. “How long does she have?”

  “Not long.”

   “Then I’m ready.” I stood up with assistance once more and felt my knees buckle before regaining my balance but I was determined and I soon found my feet.

 

  The car journey to the hospital was a silent affair. There was a lot to be said and a lot to be asked, but all I wanted at that moment was to see my mother. I wanted to hold her hand and hug her close and smell her perfume. She always smelled like our washing detergent, our air freshener and her cooking. For me, it was the smell of home. My mind flicked back to the stained-glass window I’d seen only hours before in the office before I knew what had happened, and how it had made me yearn for my home and my parents. I swallowed a new sickness down this time. The sickness that told me I would never go home again.

  As we pulled up, anxiety shot through my blood like a bullet and I was scared. I had no idea what she would look like and I had never seen my mother without my father. Everything felt out of place like a dream where you realize you’re dreaming, but you can’t wake up.

  We marched through the ward, chaperoned by a nurse who kept looking at me with sad eyes. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see the sympathy that I knew was reserved specifically for orphaned parents.

  Orphan… I’m orphaned now.

When we finally reached her suit, the nurse turned to face us all and spoke politely with a degree of professionalism but with a considerable amount of sadness. The type you could begrudge no one for it was too human. “I’ll leave you with her. Let me know if you need anything at all.”

  Claire muttered a soft ‘Thank you’ and then placed her hand on my back. “Ready, Hope?”

“I’m ready…” I wasn’t ready at all, but I needed to say goodbye. Even at my young age, I knew it would be such a regret to live with if I never said goodbye.

  We opened the door and I shuffled quickly to her bedside. She looked perfect, but her head was bandaged, and her eyes had bruised. A tube was feeding her oxygen and machines were ambiently beeping in the background. Her heart rate was steady but faint and she never moved.

  I clutched her hand as I sat beside her and ran my fingers over her cold knuckles. She was still wearing her wedding band and even then, seeing her lifeless and broken, I wanted so badly for her eyes to open and the doctor to tell us she could go home. My father would pick us up from outside, we’d hop into the car and I’d watch as she kissed his cheek and asked him to stop by the supermarket so she could pick up some dinner. I wanted this mundane, unimportant image to be true, but it wasn’t.

  Claire sat beside me and seemed to be wishing for an outcome not so dissimilar to mine. “At the moment, she’s under sedation… in the accident, she hit her head pretty hard. They don’t think she would have even known it happened… and your father…” I saw her lip tremble. “Your father would have felt nothing, Hope. I promise.” Her dark eyes looked into mine and I knew she desperately wanted me to believe that. She wanted to take away some of the pain, however little. I nodded.

  “Okay…”

  “But your mother, she won’t wake up, honey… she isn’t there anymore. She’s gone.”

  I knew this was also true and I felt tears on my cheeks once again. This time, they fell slowly. I didn’t sob until I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t panic… I simply let it all sink in.

  “I know.”

  “We need to say our goodbyes and let her go… we can be with her and make sure she’s comfortable… if you want.”

I nodded sharply and squeezed my mothers’ hand, my eyes shut tight as I heard the nurse enter the room once again. I kept my eyes closed and lay beside her, my head on her chest as I desperately tried to create a lasting memory of how her shampoo smelled in her hair. One by one, the click of the machines being turned off and my own rapid breaths sent me into a state of meditation. I lost time once again… I couldn’t remember anyone leaving. I couldn’t remember her heart stopping, but as my eyes opened, I saw her. No one else was in the room, no one else could have seen what I saw that night, but I saw her plain as day. She stood in her hospital gown; her eyes dead but fixated on me. I sat up and called out to her; “Mum… mum, you should be…”

  Smoke had begun to rise from her hands and she sobbed slowly as she stepped away from me. Her palms were blistering and I wanted to help her, but before I could move, she caught fire and within seconds, her entire body was engulfed. She screamed in pain and I closed my eyes and fell from her bed side. As soon as I hit the floor, the apparition departed. I panted and my entire frame shook uncontrollably. “C-Claire! Claire!”

  Claire burst through the doors and ran to me. “Hope, its okay!” She grabbed me up from the floor into her arms and I clung to her. I couldn’t comprehend what I’d seen. I tried to speak, but she hushed me and picked me up. “We need to get you home… you need to rest. Adam? The car. Now.”

  I could no longer feel my legs and my vision was beginning to blur, but my hands were burning. I winced and inhaled a sharp breath as I felt the pain worsening but looking at my palms, there was nothing there.

  It burns…

Author's Note

Very first draft so initial thoughts and impressions please. Are you compelled to read on, etc?

Reviews

[Carola]

wow !!!!! what a read, i couldn't stop until the last word.
i was racing through the sentences so fast that i had to re-read some of them again 'cos i missed part of the vivid & convincing events.
i normally don't read online stories because of the length, but your opening paragraph was inviting me to read on.
well done !!! .....5 stars