Fall to Pieces

Mama

After coming home from church, I head straight to my room. Stripping myself of the blue dress I have on, I throw on a tee and shorts. I have rest of the afternoon to chill, and so I'll gladly do so. I have music and I have journals to mark. Picking up the notebooks I accidentally knocked my pens over and watched them roll. The lazy side of me just wants to watch them roll. The sensible side of me tells me I need them to mark assignments. Gah. Putting the books down I open the closet door and start to pick them up, and something catches my eye. Its a small square box, and I know its bad to snoop around in other people's business, but I can't help it. Placing the pens on the bed, I reach for the box and open it. Inside there's a photo album and some other papers. There is one photo that catches my eye. My mom's. I can feel my body tense at the sight of her, her curly hair wild and her brown eyes shining like stars. My mother volunteered here? I start going through the pictures and the documents, tears streaming down my face. At the very bottom of the box is a little book, something like the one she gave me before she died. In fact, its the same design and everything, just different colors. Opening it, I wipe my tears and start to read.
I'm in a dark place right now. My father has just died and I have no other family, so I am stuck at this orphanage. I am praying that because I am young, I will get a decent job. I will be able to save up money to go to America. God will help me. I hope.
Turning the page, I continue reading. There is a new volunteer. He looks rich and snobby. My God, I hate men like that. I hate the parents, too, for not teaching them the value of money. And then, when their kids hit the deep end, that's when they send them on life changing missionary trips. Of course,  Celestia says to see the good in everyone... But I'm not her. Thank heavens.
Closing the book, I look at the time. Its after midnight. Rain is pouting heavy outside, and I can't calm down. I need fresh air. I know why my dad sent me here. He was here, and that's how he met my mom. He fell in love with her and blah, blah, blah. She used to live in this orphanage. She probably slept in this exact room. Looking at her picture, it reminds me if how loving she was. She was in a dark place? I never imagined someone as sweet as my mom being in a dark place. Putting the book box in the closet, I clumsily stumble to my feet. Moments like this are when I could use a drink. A shot of tequila or some vodka would be nice. Trembling, I walk outside in the pouring rain. Everything hurts inside of me. Maybe my dad was right, maybe I am depressed. Every single bone is on fire, and all I can do is burn. I want to die. So badly, I want to give up. And then I remember that I'm being selfish, I have Isaac and Frankie and my dad. I'm lost. Crashing to the floor, I sit there, letting the cold rain pour. I've been dead for eight years now. So why does it feel like I just died five minutes ago? I'm a walking ghost. I want to back to how life was before. Happy. Peaceful. Naïve. I liked that life. In fact, I loved it. When mom left, she took the sun. I know this because I'm living in an eternal darkness. And everyday, it just keeps getting darker.