Crushed HeartA Story by JuliaSasha skipped in a
circle on the grey pavement, waiting. The end was near, she knew. The rain
would come and wash away the drawing she had made on the ground in chalk. It
was a picture of her and her father. She had to improvise, of course, because
the only colors she had were green, purple and blue. But there they were,
holding hands and smiling. They were probably on their way to a picnic in the
park like they used to have, just the two of them. They would bring turkey
sandwiches and rice pudding and apple juice and sit with the sharp blades of
grass prying their behinds and the sun sparkling down on them, drowning them in
golden light. The last picnic they had, by the water, she remembered her father
laughing, shiny bubbles of joy floating out of his mouth and landing on her
open palm like little pearls. She remembered watching the way the water lapped
up against the concrete, like a playful dog. She remembered feeling anxious, as
she spent lazy hours resting her head in her father’s lap, watching the moon
emerge from behind its veil, counting the number of ants marching around the
perimeter of a tree, crossing her fingers for a shooting star to grant the wish
she held close with a fiery might. The wish that things would stay this way
forever, the wish that her nerves would fade to black, that she could forget it
wouldn’t always be this way. She remembered when her father had faced her so
they were eye to eye. His smile faded softly, like a pair of old jeans, so that
you didn’t realize it was happening until it was too late. He turned to her and
showed her two closed palms. She was lucky she tapped the right hand, her silky
coffee warmth against his, her fingerprint against his skin invisibly
connecting them. He opened it and handed her a necklace. She gasped and pried
it from his slow fingers, excitement making her move too fast. It was a gold
chain and at the end hung a locket. There was something engraved on the side,
which she first ran over with her finger, feeling the cool smooth edges of
metal, and then read. It had her name and the inside had her father’s picture
and the word love. And she did love it. She loved the way it felt when she hung
it from her neck. She loved the feeling it sent down her spine, like little
angelic fairies dancing with glee. She loved cradling it between her shirt and
chest and knowing that she was loved. At first it was different having
something hang there that hadn’t been there before, but soon it felt like
something was missing without it. She wore it to school, to bed, in the shower,
on the playground. Her father would kiss her goodnight and smile but warn her
to be careful. She looked up at the sky now, turning dark so that noon looked
more like midnight, a deep reminder of things she would rather forget. Now that
the picnics were over and her father was gone, now that there were no more lazy
sunny days, or soft comforting embraces, her neck hung empty. The necklace that
she had held against the beating of her heart was crushed in the pocket of her
dress, a deep dark secret that choked her with regret and loss when she
couldn’t help but reach her hand in. She would gently feel the tattered pieces
and cry over something that could never be fixed. She skipped and listened with
a trained ear, for the smell of clean laundry, of hot chocolate, of abandoned
libraries that meant the rain was near. When it came, she stood still and let
it wash her conscious clean, let it rid the evil off her back and free her
yearning soul. Once her father’s face was gone, he was never coming back. © 2010 JuliaAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on August 9, 2010 Last Updated on August 9, 2010 Author
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