A Silent Grave (Cause and Effect)

We were assigned to write seven essays on a single topic - I chose to write about alcohol. This is the cause and effect essay of that series.

 

A Silent Grave

Maroon beads run between my fingers as I say the mother’s prayer, the life that once lived before me no longer can be found.  It’s been ten years since I’ve visited my father, though I’ve missed him terribly; I knew he would not wish to see me after what I’d done.  Countless times I've sat and reminisced on the occurrences of that faithful day; the day he taught me how to ride a bike, the day I killed my father.

 It was a sunny day- beautiful in every way.  For the first time all week, my father was home from business and had the opportunity to be with me.  I was only eight, and, unlike most of my friends, I had yet to learn the mysteries of riding a bike; however, today would change that.  Today would change many things. 

With him by my side on the crazy metal death contraption, I felt safe.  He was my protector, always watching over me, and always caring for me.  I had fallen twelve times before I got the hang of that damn two wheeled piece from hell.  He would always chuckle a little, then help me back up, encourage me when I said no. He was my father, a loving man, a respectable man, and I loved him.  That night, as I walked into our picturesque Ohio home, even the cuts and bruises which had formed on every inch of my body could not change the pride I felt in myself- the pride he felt in me. 

I remember my parents had friends over that night, and my father had made margarita’s - though he refused to drink any, always laughing in a content way as he said alcohol didn’t agree with him.  His friends all assumed that it was a medical problem, I myself didn’t know, but even at the age of eight I respected him for it. 

Before he could turn on the mixer though, a phone call came from Southern Ohio and everyone was abruptly instructed to leave.  The only words my father said were “There was a car accident, Uncle Ted is dead.”  Then, grabbing his black overcoat, he left the house with the guests.

When he finally came back, four hours later, there was something in him that I could not define; something had changed within my proud father. He no longer stood tall, but instead had a small slouch, his steps were no longer sure, but instead quivered as he stood before me, and for the first time in my life I smelt alcohol on his breath.  I went up to him to be with him- he was my savior, I needed him and he needed me.  But before I could take a step, he grabbed the lamp next to the doorway and threw it towards my mother.  He was changed, I tried to stop him, he loved her and I knew this, but he had forgotten. 

“You did this.  You told them to come over, you told them…”  he stumbled toward her, and she stared in disbelief.  He was a different man, he had transformed into a monster, and the only thing she did was turn her head toward us, my sister and I, and scream we must leave and come back in the morning. She had not said where we could go, I think for fear my father would follow. 

We moved quickly, my ten year old sister clenching my fingers with her hand in passionate security.  She was my elder by only two years, though she knew a great deal more than I as to where we were going.  Her hand felt warm against my skin, quelling the feeling of fear, and only allowing a fusion of adrenaline and bewilderment to flow though my chilled bones. 

            Ashley and I now sat in silence as we watched the beauties of the lake, it was a curious experience, her and I just sitting; just thinking.  My family owned no property along the lake, no boats, or skis; often we only went out there to look at the magnificence of it.  Glistening sapphire waves reflecting a hushed moon, and the trees pointing to the heavens, it was a sight for even the most experienced traveler.  Often I had come out there alone to ponder the musing mysteries of nature, but tonight my mind was consumed by the actions of my savior.  His brother had died, and, although I knew my mom could take care of herself, he blamed her. 

            Beside me, I noticed, my sister had begun to cry.  It was all I could do to not join her, her eyes filling the sacred lake with their water.  How could he do this?  Look what he’s done to my sister.  He’s hurt her, she loved him just as much as I; yet he did not care, his selfish action had betrayed her, he had betrayed me. My mind’s thoughts were cut short as a faint shuffling sound and crunching of leaves began to grow to a strong presence coming from the very path we had taken to get to the lake.  “Ash hide, its Dad, he’s found us.”

            She looked at me, then we broke, she went left, closer to the trail towards home, and hid behind a small tree, while I lunged for a crevasse that separated the forest form the lake.  I began grabbing for any form of shelter, branches, leaves, and even found a skinny wooden fencepost to stick in the ground protecting me from my father’s line of vision.  As I watched my sister scramble for protection, the crunches slowly became more and more predominate, and she was still struggling to find anything large enough to cover her.  I beckoned for her to come join me, but she could not see my scrawny arm.  It was then I saw him emerge from the dense forest. Holding no light, and no shirt, the crazed man headed straight for my sister who still had not acknowledged him. 

            He was of no relation to me, not my father, or any of his friends- he lost that privilege when he grabbed my sister by the arm and began dragging her away.  Fear blocked my senses, convulsing my muscles in tremendous agony.  I stood there, and watched him for a second, until I heard a bitter cry of my name. 

            Power counteracted the fear, a feeling of unstoppable anger, and tremendous emotion swept out all thoughts of passiveness, as my eight year old body took on this giant man, as David attacked Goliath.  I snatched a rock, and hurled it towards his intoxicated mind; hoping to rid it of that vile poison; hoping to see my father again.  It streamed to his right, and he turned, dropping my sister.  It was then I acted.  I jumped out of my crevasse, grasping the wooden fence post in my weak fingers, and charged straight towards the grown enemy.

            He had no time to react, no time to move or counteract my jagged weapon.  He had grabbed my sister, and I have no remorse for what I did.  I shoved the wooden tool into his stretched skin.  What had once protected me from his vision now dwelled in his lungs, in his heart; and the man simply fell, without resistance, into the greedy mud that now soaked my feet.  As I gazed at the rain falling into that man’s petrified and lifeless eyes, as the comprehension of what I had done came to me, my body filled not with rage, nor with agony or misery for his death, I instead became nothing but a vessel for open air.

And now, here I stand, at my savior’s headstone nearly ten years later, still unable to ride a bike.

Reviews

[nishantshah2381]

FANTASTIC WRITE

[brittneymarie]

This story was fantastic :]
The detailing was great.


I really did enjoying this.
It was sad, but yet raw

Nicely done :]