She's Gone

“She’s gone.”

 

                It’s amazing how much affect those simple words can make. When I heard that soft whisper escape my father’s lips, telling us the news nobody could bear to hear, I lost everything. My heart fell to my stomach, a lump formed in my throat, and tears filled my eyes. Our happy living room, filled with bright furniture, all sorts of beautiful and exotic plants, and bookcases just filled with amazing stories and poetry, suddenly lost its glow.

 

This can’t be happening. I’m dreaming. No, no I won’t let this happen. Mommy come back! Please!

 

                Beside those words screaming in my head, breaking the loudest silence I had ever heard, everything else was blank. I couldn’t loose her like this.  I don’t know how long we stood there, just Brandon, Emily and I, staring at our father, but it probably wasn’t long. I suddenly screamed from the build-up for emotions. Tears finally beginning to fall I ran to my room, not able to face cold reality.

 

                Under my covers I sobbed, the horrible, gut-wrenching crying that comes from your very heart, taking all breath from your chest, suffocating you with tears. I couldn’t believe this. We had tried so hard! She had fought so hard!

 

Mommy, please, don’t leave me! I promise I’ll never be bad! I’ll do everything you ask me, the second you ask, just please come back! We can’t loose you, we need you! You can’t be gone, you can’t just go! Please, please, come back.

 

                After what seemed like hours of horrid thought and painful tears I fell asleep, too exhausted. But my dreams were no comfort to me at all. It was a replay, of one of my closest memories I could never forget. It had been just another ordinary day, in the memory and dream, where my mom came in to wake me up for school.

 

 I had pulled myself up, pulling my arms around her and laying into her chest, still half-asleep. It was unusual for her to wake me up, but I was happy to see her. Then she gently stroked my hair, pushing the loose strands out of my face, slowly and smoothly rocking me back and forth. I stayed in her arms as long as I could, just to breathe in the moment, and lock the memory into my mind.

 

Now I was awake, panting hard and wiping dried tears from my face. It had felt so good, to be back in that moment, taking it in again. But that was the last moment like that I’d ever have of her, at all. She was gone now, losing the fight with her injuries from her car accident. It was all over.

 

Weeks went on. Our father became more and more absent, spending as much time as possible at work. He said so we could pay the bills, but I knew it was to drown himself in something else. Truthfully, anything was better than being in the broken house we had left. It seemed so vacant and painful now, with out our mother’s happy smiles, loud laughter, and bright face to fill it up.

 

Brandon, my older brother, sixteen at the time, was not taking it in too well. None of us were, but it was like he wasn’t even there anymore. Slowly he had retreated into himself, turning up his music, wandering around aimlessly. He had lost all purpose, not caring about anything because he couldn’t care. It hurt too much. He was turning into a ghost, slipping slowly away from the pictures and memories that filled our once happy house.

 

Emily had been five. She had just ended kindergarten, not knowing much about the world. But she had been close to our mom. If I thought I was doing bad, or if I thought Brandon was worse, all I would have to do was look at Emily and it would look like she had lost all sanity. The loss had hit her harder than anyone else it seemed. She actually began pretending to call our mom on the phone and talk to her.

 

“Have I been a good girl? Well of course I have mommy! You know me! I made sure I put my toys away when I was done playing today, and I even made my bed by myself! I can swing on the swings alone, but I sure miss you pushing me mommy. I can’t get very high at all.”

 

                So everyday I watched my little sister spend hours on the phone while my father became more and more absent and my brother became a ghost. Luckily it was summer, so there was no school; otherwise all of us would be in a much worse state.

 

                I let Emily talk on the phone for a while, supposedly talking to our lost mother. But after three weeks I realized how bad it was for her. I slowly made efforts to pull her away, distracting her with new games, or toys, or even trips to the park. I was determined to get her out of that phase by the time she entered first grade. But no matter how hard I tried, even if I spent every waking second with her, she would still slip away and talk on the phone to our dead mother.

 

                One day, I lost it. Everyone was sad she was gone, but Emily was crossing the line! How dare she pretend she could talk to our mother!

 

“Emily, stop playing with the phone right now and come eat lunch!” I yelled at her, my anger bubbling inside of me

 

“Shush, Sarah! I’m talking to mommy!” Emily whispered back, bringing a small finder to her lips

 

“No Emily, you aren’t. Mommy is not on the other end of that phone because she’s dead. You heard dad just as well as I did! Now hand up your phone and come eat!” I hissed through my gritted teeth, trying to control my urge to smack the phone away and drag her to the kitchen

 

“Mommy, Sarah’s yelling at me! She’s telling me to hang up the phone, mommy make her stop!” Emily stared screaming, tears flowing down her cheeks

 

                I suddenly felt so bad for loosing my temper with her, so I decided to try another tactic. If she wouldn’t respond to anger then I had to speak calm, play it cool.

 

“Come on, I made your favorite, with cookies for desert. Just stop pretending and put the phone down, okay?” I soothed softly

 

“No! Here mommy, tell her! Tell Sarah I’m not pretending! Tell her you’re still okay!” Emily cried into the phone

 

                She paused for a moment, and then extended the phone towards me. I knew I had to get her through this phase, but I thought if I played along then broke the reality to her at the same time it might soften the blow. So, swallowing hard, I took the phone, ready to play.

 

“Hello, this is Sarah. Is this mommy on the phone?” I asked sweetly into what seemed like a blank receiver.

 

“Hello Sarah. Yes, this is mommy, and I’m coming home soon baby. I promise.” my mothers sweet voice sounded back

 

                I nearly jumped when I had heard a voice come through, but now, hearing my mother again made my heart swell. Happy tears streamed down my cheeks and suddenly the house lightened again.

 

“Mommy, is this really you? Are you really coming home?” I whispered into the phone, hardly breathing

 

“Yes baby girl, it’s really me. And I really am coming home. It’s okay now sweetie, everything’s okay.” she soothed back softly

 

                It took me a moment for that to settle in, but when I finally decided I wasn’t dreaming I began to scream for Brandon. He came into the room with the same blank expression I’d seen him wear for weeks, and pulled out his head phones.

 

“Mommy’s on the phone Brandon, she’s alive!” I cried, holding the phone close to me

 

“Oh no, Emily’s got you into that phase too?” Brandon asked sighing

 

“No, no it really is mommy Brandon! Talk to her! See Sarah, I told you she was okay!” Emily cried, still wiping tears away

 

                Brandon sighed out and took the phone from me. After a second he gave a quick and blunt ‘hello’ into the phone with an annoyed expression on his face. Suddenly, he stiffened, holding his breath as he listened to our mother’s voice. Crying, we put it on speaker phone and listened to our mother talk to us, telling us the whole story. I hardly heard a specific word because I was slowly being pulled back into my favorite memory of her, the one I had dreamt about.

 

Now it didn’t seem so far away.