I closed my eyes as I bought my hands together, still kneeling at my bed. “Oh please god, please look after daddy.” I cried, tear after tear – each of which fell down my beautiful cheek and onto the floor. It had only been an hour or so after my father had died in a car crash, no actually; on his trip to work. As usual he got up very early, showered and then got dressed. He drove hours after hours just so he could make a living for us, and for that I was proud of him.
But without him in my life, and without my mother at a very young age, my sister and I knew there would be no hope left for us in the future. I remember being there in the hospital with her, holding her fragile body tight against my chest. Her sobs were never ending and her eyes blood shot with sadness. I remember how she whispered into daddy’s ear as she clenched his hand tightly in hers, begging him not to let go of her. “I will always love you.” His last words were.
I vividly recall her falling down onto her knees with pain inside her as his eyes shut for the final and very last time. I had grabbed her quickly, enveloping her into my arms, stroking her hair and crying with her, while all the while praying inside my head that daddy would always be with us, and even though I knew God had everything already planned out for us, I wondered if making daddy die was the right choice. I quickly had shook this distraught thought out of my mind and reminded myself that everything happened for a reason, whether it was good or bad, and that god had a plan for us.
That night I tucked Julie into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin before softly kissing her on the cheek. Julie was my only sister, and for that I was glad. Over the years of knowing each other we had become very close and relied on each other more than most siblings would. Sadly enough, we had no other relatives to look after us, and since I was legal age I automatically became the guardian of my younger sister whom was only 9 years old.
I shook the feeling of failure out of my head as I quickly changed out of my sweaty clothes and put on a nice fresh night gown that fell just below the knee. It was a light green colour which matched my tanned skin perfectly. I looked down at my rainbow painted toe nails before giving off an angry huff and folding the blankets over my body.
That night I dreamt of mother returning, with a warm smile on her face. “Go away.” I had yelled before turning around to walk the other way. I could feel her tight grip grab me by the hand as she tried to turn me around to look at her. “I’m serious. Leave us both alone.” I had cried, not looking her in the eye. I had felt betrayed by her, angry by her, and hurt by her. Unlike most families my mother left my father, Julie and I when we were very little. She used to tell him that she was going away on a business trip, but he’d soon find out she was sleeping with another man, and for this I felt disgusted by her existence. I shooed her away in a wistful movement of my hand as I looked back at her with hatred in my eyes. “I don’t love you.” I hesitated, before coming clean and walking away. I didn’t look back, and I was never going to.
In the morning I awoke to my sister sitting on the end of the bed, her face emotionless. I brought her into my arms and gave her a comforting hug, which only made her true emotions come out and her bursting out in tears once again. I rubbed her back softly as I told her that everything was going to be okay and I knew inside myself that it would be because our fate was in the hands of God now. I edged Julie around and looked at her peacefully in the eye. “Now you know that daddy wouldn’t want us to be upset you know.” I said quiet and cautiously. A smile edged at the corner of her lips; not a happy one; not even close. A smile of sadness and defeat, but all she could do was nod. I gave her a finally squeeze before taking her hand in mine and leading her into the kitchen before making her favourite cereal (Cocoa Pops), and normally she would scoff them down like a wild pig but today she didn’t have to the gut to get anything down, and for that I was worried. I knew I had to be strong for her, as much as I would like to scream, to swear and most of all to cry. I was the only one she had left and if I was a mess, then she would be too, so for her I had to be strong. I continued into the cupboard and took out Special Kay cereal before smothering it in milk and sitting down at our small glass table before taking a gulp of it, and forcing it down my throat.
I eyed her wearily as she stared off into the view. I couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t a very nice view. For the past few days the weather had been traumatic. The waves lapped harshly against the beach and the rocks and storm clouds covered the entire town with bolts of thunder and rain all at once. I sighed as I took another bite into my breakfast and rubbed her on the shoulder. “He loves you.” I finally said before giving her a small smile. She didn’t return it. Instead with one hand she wacked her breakfast off the table and onto the floor in a quick smash. She didn’t even say sorry or help to clean up. She just ran in tears back to the room before she buried herself in her damp pillow of sadness.
I got down on my knees and swept up the mess. I wasn’t angry at her. No, in fact I was happy. I was happy that she was showing her emotions, releasing them so one day we all can move on and be a happy family again. I brushed all the glass up before coming out with a mop and getting all the chocolate milk and bits. I knew this was going to be hard, but I knew if I stayed strong then something would be made better of this. I just knew it.
I sighed as I returned the mop and brush away to its proper place and headed to take a nice hot bath and indulge in things I had neglected about myself before dad passed away. I took out a razor and began shaving my stubble of hairs on my legs, and then shampooed my hair up until it smelt of the roses in our garden. I always loved the smell, ever since I was a kid. It was my favourite flower after all. Anyhow, I quickly rinsed the bubbly goodness out of my hair before wrapping myself in a towel and checking my reflection in the mirror. It was obvious I had a lot of work to do. A lot of work to do on the new self that I was going to become.
And no, don’t get me wrong. I am never going to be leaving my love for God behind me, but what I will be leaving is my horrifying and miserable past. It was going to be a new life for me and I, and only I could make that happen, and I was determined that it was all going to work out fine.