The List

Prologue: Anonymous

Prologue:

Anonymous

"What if?" I started to my mother again as she carried me to the veranda of my grandmother's house. "What if you just took me with you?"

"Cricket listen up. Mama needs you to be strong for her. Can ya do that?" My mama patted my knee when she set me down. 

"I can Mama, but are you sure Bad Dad won't get you?" My voice crumbled in my chest as I peered up at my mother.  Bad Dad was like The Joker.  Mama showed me Batman in some comics. I'm like her Robin and she is my Batman. She always protects me from Bad Dad, but sometimes she isn't strong enough and she gets really hurt.

"No no baby girl don't worry about him. He won't lay a hand on me," My Mama soothed me.

"Mama, be Batman," I whispered as I kissed her palm.

"And you be Robin and take care of the Batcave with Grandma. Grandma can even be Alfred," My mama tugged me into her arms once again.

"I don't know what to do without you," I admitted.

Mama whispered to me before she rose from the hug, "Make me list," her breath shook and her eyes wept, "when I return Cricket I want a list. We will do everything on the list ya hear me?" My head dipped constantly in understanding. With a final kiss what was my only security, my  family, my mother left me at my grandmother's house. My grandmother instantly took the place of my Mama pulling me inside for a warm hug and a cookie.

12 years later.

What if?  What if life were just unwritten sentences?  Unfiltered moments? Wandering aimlessly?  What if the world was just merely a blink? Lost years? Flash dances? Never dreaming? Or what if life were measured in love? In heated hugs? Kismet kisses? Smitten snuggles? We'll never know until we test it out.

A list. A measly list. Everything spiralled out. Sprawled out like a cadaver on a medical table. Exposed for all to see. Twelve years of list making and no one to share it with. Sew the cadaver up before it rots. Reel in the dreams. Measly more like monstrous. 

Make me a list. Make who a list?  Sorry Mama, but you disappeared.  Into thin air. Out of smoke. Gone like the blue bird. The first year of writing the list was easy. Just ride a horse, meet Batman and eat cotton candy upside down. After twelve years you'd think I'd give up on the list and start living my life, but what if I were to abandon the only promise I made my mother.  What if she returned and I had no list? What if after all this time I had no list? 

Hundreds of ideas built the steadily growing list. Covered journal pages. Endless hours wasted on sprinting to a journal to add an idea.

After twelve years, I've decided that staring at a list of every possible whim my mind could flip over, to start living the list. Take it day by day and no better way than to check off crash a party from the list. I heard a boy from a neighboring school was throwing a Graduation party, Project X style. Sneaking in would be easy and then I can start this list.

Once the list starts my life starts.