Walking alone, the story of another broken home, chapter 2
It was Saturday, a sunny spring day in May. The bees hummed and the birds sang outside the window it was a time for rebirth. A chance at new life. The child was however awoken to the eerie silence of an empty house. Her father was at work, he always worked mornings leaving the five year old with her then twenty one year old mother.
The little girl was relived to find her mother on the bathroom floor, and although it was an odd place to sleep, even by a childs vivid imagination she thought nothing of it.
Actually, it wasn't the first time it had happened. Her mother slept through most of the day, her own daughters preschool graduation, Christmas, birthdays, and vacation were all things she had missed because of it.
The young mother got frustrated with ordinary things such as turning on the dishwasher, packing lunches, combing knots out of her daughters hair, normal things that had a great impact on a five year old.
The child had to take on the impossible task of being on her own and taking care of herself while also trying to help her mother.
Instead of going to the playground like most four year-olds she instead had to do the laundry and clean her room, tiptoeing around the house as not to disturb her mother. Her father tried, he really did. But it was too much for him to handle, working ten hour days while cooking and cleaning on his wifes behalf was just too much to do in a day. And then he got sick, the doctors had a name for it, but because it was so long and threatening he instantly forgot it. They said that he was lucky if he could make it until the end of the year. He knew that he didn't have that long though.
Although he pretended nothing was wrong, his daughter could tell that he wasn't doing well. Everyday he came home looking more tired. Everyday he came home out of breath and then he was barley able to walk. Then came the daily visits to the hospital, making him not able to get all his hours in for work.
He soon became to exhausted to play with his daughter or even tuck her in, so unless you count her parents yelling at each other she went to bed by tucking herself in. She pretended not to notice though, the last thing she wanted her father worrying about was her.
Then came the day she walked in to see her mother lying on the floor in the bathroom with a bottle of something laying spilled over near her feet.
"Mommy, mommy. Wake up, it's morning. Mom!" Frantically she turned around knelt down to wear her mother lay on the floor. "Mama, why won't you wake up? MOMMMY?"
She felt her arm, it was ice cold. Her skin was a grey blue color and her eyes bulged out of her sockets. The little girl screamed, and didn't stop until someone pulled her away. Everything else was nearly a blur. She couldn't erase the picture of her mind, of her young mother laying on the floor with a bottle of pills as her only friend.
That next March was even worse. Her father stopped being able to talk or eat or walk, he was barley even able to breathe. He went into the hospital full time. Everyday she visited, she had nowhere else to go. Every time she went there were always more machines hooked up to his arms, needles in every spot imaginable and more doctors coming in using big and complicated useless words for "You're going to die, and sooner than later."
She watched him die right in front of her, after the machine started to make a high pitched beeping sound that she thought was "the song of death." And that was the last day of her first life.
After that she ran away, she ran away to nowhere where no one could find her and leave her all alone again. She ran away from the hospital, from her ghosts, from her memories and decided never to come back, so began her second life. Her life on the run, doing everything to forget her past, and for awhile her plan worked.
And that was the true story, the one that no one believed, not even her. But it was the way it was and the way she thought it would stay. Little did she know what was going to happen next...
The little girl was relived to find her mother on the bathroom floor, and although it was an odd place to sleep, even by a childs vivid imagination she thought nothing of it.
Actually, it wasn't the first time it had happened. Her mother slept through most of the day, her own daughters preschool graduation, Christmas, birthdays, and vacation were all things she had missed because of it.
The young mother got frustrated with ordinary things such as turning on the dishwasher, packing lunches, combing knots out of her daughters hair, normal things that had a great impact on a five year old.
The child had to take on the impossible task of being on her own and taking care of herself while also trying to help her mother.
Instead of going to the playground like most four year-olds she instead had to do the laundry and clean her room, tiptoeing around the house as not to disturb her mother. Her father tried, he really did. But it was too much for him to handle, working ten hour days while cooking and cleaning on his wifes behalf was just too much to do in a day. And then he got sick, the doctors had a name for it, but because it was so long and threatening he instantly forgot it. They said that he was lucky if he could make it until the end of the year. He knew that he didn't have that long though.
Although he pretended nothing was wrong, his daughter could tell that he wasn't doing well. Everyday he came home looking more tired. Everyday he came home out of breath and then he was barley able to walk. Then came the daily visits to the hospital, making him not able to get all his hours in for work.
He soon became to exhausted to play with his daughter or even tuck her in, so unless you count her parents yelling at each other she went to bed by tucking herself in. She pretended not to notice though, the last thing she wanted her father worrying about was her.
Then came the day she walked in to see her mother lying on the floor in the bathroom with a bottle of something laying spilled over near her feet.
"Mommy, mommy. Wake up, it's morning. Mom!" Frantically she turned around knelt down to wear her mother lay on the floor. "Mama, why won't you wake up? MOMMMY?"
She felt her arm, it was ice cold. Her skin was a grey blue color and her eyes bulged out of her sockets. The little girl screamed, and didn't stop until someone pulled her away. Everything else was nearly a blur. She couldn't erase the picture of her mind, of her young mother laying on the floor with a bottle of pills as her only friend.
That next March was even worse. Her father stopped being able to talk or eat or walk, he was barley even able to breathe. He went into the hospital full time. Everyday she visited, she had nowhere else to go. Every time she went there were always more machines hooked up to his arms, needles in every spot imaginable and more doctors coming in using big and complicated useless words for "You're going to die, and sooner than later."
She watched him die right in front of her, after the machine started to make a high pitched beeping sound that she thought was "the song of death." And that was the last day of her first life.
After that she ran away, she ran away to nowhere where no one could find her and leave her all alone again. She ran away from the hospital, from her ghosts, from her memories and decided never to come back, so began her second life. Her life on the run, doing everything to forget her past, and for awhile her plan worked.
And that was the true story, the one that no one believed, not even her. But it was the way it was and the way she thought it would stay. Little did she know what was going to happen next...
