ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ

Accident

   "How do you like this one?" Mother asked, raising a hanger and a piece of clothing with tiny flower patterns—it was a puffed-sleeved shirt. I scowled and walked over to another clothing rack. "Mom, I don't want to be adorable, okay. That word makes me sound like a pixie," I explain, pointing to a stack of shirts and pants in various designs. Instead, I drag my feet to the circular garment rack, where I pretended to be appealing with the fabrics—which I wasn't.

"Oh, you're not a pixie, you're a lovely young woman, and this is a lovely blouse!" she emphasized, but I obviously didn't care, "Well didn't you know clothes are armor-"

"Pardon?" she questioned, her brows furrowed for a brief moment. "Kids today don't dress who they are- they dress to hide who they are..." I quietly add, not trying to seem eager to get out of here.

"So what do you wanna hide?" Mother pushed the subject farther, I look for a certain clothe I could like but I seem to have a higher standard taste for this store. I furrow my brows together and stole a glance back to her before touching the stacked hanger in rows, "I don't know, nothing!" 

"Oh sweety-"

"Mom! God forget what I just said you take me so literally," 

That was the final straw for me, and I forced myself to past her to the other side once more. "Yeah, I don't want that blouse okay, don't take it personally," I spat, taking two more steps back and turning around to check her over. She was weakly leaning into the rack in front of her. For a brief moment, I was concerned; she was behaving strangely.

I swiftly return to her and gently place my hand on her shoulder, asking, "Mom, are you okay?" It appeared that she was having difficulty breathing, and I was being a brat. She scratched her throat and turned her gaze away from me. 

"Yeah, I'm just- going to go for the ladies room, okay Honey, and then we're- Uh, we're going to go..." she pats my cheek as she brushed past me, and I watch her walk away. All I could think about was how insensitive I was being and how I shouldn't have spoken to her in that manner.

•

   "Do you want to know what I appreciate about Miguel?" she asks, deftly removing the CD from its case and inserting it into a single-CD player, the music starts in gently. The song 'Sure Thing' is played faintly and at a low volume.

"What?"

"His taste was maturing independently, and when he was fourteen, he started writing and recording his own songs," Jennie said as she sat on the floor next to my bed, crossed legs. I moved my strangled hair back to my ear and was gradually distracted by his voice, which was singing along to sluggish beats. Jennie leans against her arm, her chin resting on it. "I like him," I acknowledged, and she hums in agreement while listening to the music.

I could see Jennie  was watching me. Intensely, I couldn't bare but to stare back, we contain eye contact for a second, emotions in her eyes starts to show again- but then- 

"Rosie! It's your dad!" my step mother exclaimed from downstairs. It astonished both of us, so I sprang out of bed and skipped down the stairs, slowing down when I heard her ask, "What hospital?" I knew who it was since she was peering up at me with troubled eyes. As I approached the foot of the stairs, she extended her arm, phone in hand.

"Here sweetheart," she says gently as I take the phone from her, my eyes welling up with tears. I wasn't sure why, but something didn't feel right.

"Hello?" I said shakily as I raised the phone to my ear. A gruff voice informed me that my mother had been in an accident and had been hit by a car. "Mommy?" I manage to say through my broken voice. When I sat on the steps, my knees gave up. My step-mother grabs my arm and kneels in front of me, her eyes filled with concern. I took a deep breath and dropped the phone on the floor, shamed by our last conversation, the store; was it my fault?

I palmed my face for a brief moment and cracked, my tears fall one by one. I look at her and whisper in my croak voice, "I want my mommy-" My trembling lips managed when I saw her nod a few time. "We're going right now-" Her lady voice states but I shake my head.

"No- no, Alice!" I shrieked and as fast as Alice came bolting in the hallway, "What!" She panicked before I stood up and grab  her arm to pull her to the front door. "Mom's in an accident I want you to take me," I explained fast but she takes her arm back at her. 

"What?" 

"Please just-" I shut my eyes close before my step-mother came in and hugged me from behind.

 "It's alright- I'll take you both." 

•

   I convinced Mother what I shouldn't have done and said the other day, and she disagreed and dragged me into bed with her fragmented self. Instead, she demanded that I hug her. We talked for a few moments before she dozed asleep randomly; the doctor informed me that she hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. As Alice and I left the hospital, I realized what had happened. I wanted to keep apologizing until I got the closure I needed.

I persuaded Jennie to go to the same store with me. Jennie keeps up with me as I run in my feet. "I swear it was here the other day," I remark nonchalantly, but my voice has an anxious tinge to it. Jennie was struggling to find words when she came to a halt and grabbed a random shirt, "Uh- well, what about this?" she asked, but I shrugged and continued my search through the mall store.

"No, it was a puffed sleeves blouse with little flowers in it," I said before noticing an employee discussing with another customer.

"Excuse me, miss," I said as I got closer to her, "I'm trying to find this blouse, I was here the other day." I walked around the store as she smiled at me from behind..

"Sweetie, it's a sale, and things are flying off the shelves—" she insisted, but I ignored her. I stalled and turned around to see her holding a blouse that wasn't the one I was looking for. When she attempts to size in front of me, I shove the dress away. "You're such a pretty girl, we have such dresses-"

"No, you don't get it; it needs to be this specific blouse-"

"Hey Rosie, look!" Jennie shouted as I noticed her had found it. I ran up to her and snatched it from her. I breathed a sigh of relief.

•

   I finally double-checked the outfit after slipping it on, stepping in front of a mirror and seeing Lisa staring at me from head to toe. It made me nervous, and I bit my lower lip as I tried to draw the blouse's hem down.

"Can I be frank with you?" she asks as she walks down beside me, "—feel free to say no," she says, and I shrug and say whatever.

"That blouse is so not you," she judges and shakes her head, and I let out a breathy chuckle before reminding her, "I know."

Her one brow arched, she walks in from the other side, but still in front of me. "You do? And you're not mad with me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" I asks, she shrugging and smiling, patting my shoulder and walks out of my room.