An Ending to an End

Sometimes you hear the things that you are not supposed to hear.

It was Friday. Everyone was already home. By everyone, I meant my mom and I. I didn't have any brothers or sisters. It was just the three of us from the beginning. Dad, Mom, and Ana�"that's me.

It was already eight o'clock, yet Dad still wasn't home. He was going to be late once again. I sat on the couch and waited for him. Around ten, the front door greeted our guest, Dad. He came home drunk, he had stopped for drinks with his co-workers. Everything else happened fast. Mom started yelling at Dad. She was tired of him being always late, always drunk. I went to my room, sat on my bed, and hugged Peetie. Peetie was a teddy bear that was given to me, by Grandma Al and Grandpa Ed.

I could still hear my parents arguing. Mom was complaining. Crying. Yelling. Said something about being tired of this life.That she didn't plan to live like this. Then I heard something. Mom said it. That something that was spoken hurt. That something is something a child, a six-year-old, isn't supposed to hear. That something was supposed to stay unspoken.

"If I would've gotten rid of her, just like everyone suggested. Our lives would've been different. If I have gotten rid of her on the first term, I could've stayed in college. If it wasn't for my stubbornness. My life could've been different."

Instead of denying it, Dad agreed. "Yes, our lives could've been different."

I got up, Peetie in my arms, turned off the lights, got under the covers of my bed and wept. Dad left that night, he didn't come home until two in the morning.

I barely slept that night. Around 7:30 a.m., Mom knocked on my door and came inside. "Ana, sweetie, you will go to Grandpa Ed's and Grandma Al's house for a week. Pack your case. Grab all the stuff that you will need. We will pick you up the following weekend."

I got out of bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face, made my bed, and started packing up. In my suitcase, I threw in two t-shirts, one pair of shorts, some jeans, pj's, and five pairs of undies. I grabbed Peetie and left my room, leaving the memories inside the room too. I sat on the living room couch and waited. It was as if I was waiting for the bomb to drop down and the whole house would explode into little, shattering pieces, within seconds. But that didn't happen. Ten minutes later, Grandpa Ed picked me up. We drove to their house.  

Days passed by, weeks, months. Years have passed, I am sixteen now and I am still at my Grandparent's house. Every weekend, I sit on the couch that is closest to the window and wait for Mom and Dad to pick me up. But they don’t. Perhaps, one day, a man in a black suit will knock on the door, I will answer it, and he will say something within these lines, “I am Peter Gosby. I was a great friend of your mom and dad. Yesterday at 8: 23 PM, your parents died in a car accident. Since you are their only child, I was wondering if you could say something nice about them, at their funeral,” and I will have to say that he got the wrong person and will shut the door right in front of his face.

The six-year-old memory that I have of my mom kissing me on the cheek, hugging me tight with a whispering “I love you,” in my ear was as if it was the day our lives would end. And it was. Our lives ended. My life didn't end. Her life didn't end. But, ours did.

Author's Note

I dont know where the idea came from. I guess it came from an old photo that I once found in my school.

Reviews

[VP]

This is incredible. You have highlighted a very sensitive yet serious issue about which every individual should ponder. You write really well.

[justdandy]

Thank you, this means a lot.

[Inject Positivity]

This was sad... the twist in it made it very catchy... i have frnd who has been left by his parents at her uncle's house 5 years ago and they still not came back..... i can truly relate to this story with my frnd... well presented... full ratings...

[barleygirl]

This is a very common occurrence in the many broken families around the planet. You've distilled this heartbreaking event into the barest essentials: One moment in time, one particular spoken phrase, changed the course of this young person's life. What isn't spelled out here: How it completely changed the person this child might've become & how so much self-blame probably runs thru this person's mind for years to come. Your writing is so clear, we can feel the unspoken pain & self-denigration. Good job getting to the essence of the story.

[Coyote Poetry]

A sad story and I do understand. I was raised in foster homes and by dear Grandparent. Hard for children to understand. Adults can be very foolish. Thank you for sharing the powerful story.
Coyote

[justdandy]

indeed, it is sad. It is complicating to understand. It is sometimes hard to raise children, but you just have to keep on going, because you are doing it for someone that is part of you. Those who give up, are those who die without any peace.

[Coyote Poetry]

Sometime people need help. Today I raised-up my Grandchildren. I became like my Grandparent. Open door and love to give to the children in need.

[justdandy]

Yes! I totally agree.

[Nisreen]

There is nothing like a neglectful pair

really there isnt and there never will be

[Bear]

Critique: (He came home. Drunk. Had a few drinks with his co-workers) He came home drunk, he had stopped for drinks with his co-workers
(I went in my room) I went to my room
(turned off the lights, got on my bed, under the covers, and wept) awkwardly worded sentence consider something like this "turned off the lights, got under the covers of my bed and wept"
(In my suit case) suitcase is one word
(I sat in the living room couch) I sat on
(it felt like eternity) like an eternity

Review: I like the way you tell this story, it is structured ideally and the details realistic. Strong emotional content, you draw people in so they find themselves sympathizing with Ana from the start, that is a great talent for a writer to have. Clap! Clap! Clap!

[justdandy]

Thank you... :D