When people ask you what you would say if, your mum for example, died, what did you say? Did you say that you’d be sad? Did you say that you wouldn’t care? Or did you, like Rose Perkins, say that you wouldn’t be in that situation so that’s a stupid question to be asking?
If your mother died, what would you do? Would you be submissive, and nod at the people who bring you the news and shed a few tears? Would you run to your room and lock yourself upstairs for a month, silently crying yourself to sleep everynight? Or would you, like Rose Perkins, break down and exchange your old fun-loving self in for a new, angry, hysterical and foul-mouthed personality?
If you lost your mother, what how would you feel? Would you feel sad at the loss but understand that it’s not their fault? Would you blame yourself? Or would you, like Rose Perkins, blame your parents for abandoning you and leaving you at the peak of your life?
*~*
“I’m sorry, Miss Perkins. They’re gone. There was nothing more that we could have done.” When I hear those words, I feel my world come crashing down around me. How can my parents die? Their job is to look after me. Not to just ditch me and go die, the second I turn fifteen.
“Fuck you!” I scream at the paramedic talking to me. Forgetting about pride and even responsibility in front of my little sister, in hysterics, I let out a high scream, tears bucketing down my face. “Fuck you all! You didn’t know them. You don’t know how much they meant to me. How they’re my everything. I need them to live. You could’ve done more. You still can do more! You’re a fucking paramedic and my parents are right next to you. On your other side, you have, like, a million dollars worth of medical equipment, and you’re telling me that you can’t fucking do anything else?”
Are they fucking insane? I love my mum. I love my step-dad. They’re lying in front of me, dead and all the people around here are doing is telling me that they gave it their best? They don’t even have the fucking brains to turn me away from the bodies, at least. From the bodies – the image that has now scarred me for life. I’m still a minor. I still need my parents.
“Rose, sweetie,” my godmother tries to comfort me, reaching her hand out to stroke my hair. I violently slap her hand away and she quickly retracts it.
“Don’t call me sweetie. Ever,” I warn her. “That’s what Steve called me. That’s what Mum called me. I will break every fucking bone in your titchy body if you ever fucking say the word sweetie around me.” A few paramedics look at me in horror, at my foul language, violent threat and for the older ones, no doubt my treatment and attitude towards elder people. My godparents, however, grimace but give me a small nod of agreement.
“Miss Perkins, I think it would be best if you step –“ Another paramedic starts again, this time to get me away from the bodies. Give me my parents back, I silently beg. Give me my fucking parents back. I will give you my fucking arm to be able to tell a joke with my Mum again. I’ll give my other arm to play a game of touch rugby with Steve in the backyard again. I’ll give my leg, for our parents to be there to see us celebrate Sophie’s fourth birthday in two months. I’ll give my other leg to have my parents to be with us on my wedding day. I’ll give my fucking head for them to be with Sophie and I to see us celebrate our family celebration of sister day in a year and one month.
I have these thoughts running through my mind, yet the paramedics expect me to step away from the bodies? Like that’s the most important thing at the moment? And that it’s not too late, because Sophie and I have both been staring at our parents’ dead bodies for the last half hour?
“Away from my parents? I don’t think so. I can fucking stand where I want, and do what I fucking want,” I snarl at him, emphasising the swear words. “Sophie, my three year old sister and I have been staring at those fucking corpses for the last half hour. The image is clearly imprinted in our minds and it’s not one we’ll forget. So just go shove that up your arse and tell that to yourself as you’re standing at your parent’s death place.” The paramedic’s jaw drops open in shock at my little speech but he takes himself away from me and back to their truck. “That’s more like it,” I mutter to myself, angrily glaring at his retreating sight.
“Rosie, I think it’s best if we go home now,” my godfather’s gentle voice puts itself into my head. “Sophie needs to sleep, and honestly, Rosie, so do you.” I have a home, I think angrily to myself. And it’s not with you. Home, is where I’ve been living for the last five years with Mum, Sophie and Steve. Not with you and your fucking wife.
Home, is where we’ve had weekly family movie nights, always arguing over what movie we watch. Home, is where Mum announced that she was marrying Steve. Home, is the house belonging to the garden where Mum and Steve got married. Home, is where we brought Sophie back to, three days after she was born, on the twenty-fifth of May, three, nearly four years ago.
Home, is where Mum and I have had our monthly girl night sleepovers in the loft, chatting and giggling like thirteen year-old best friends. Where she taught me her best lasagne recipe and where Steve first taught me rugby. Where I watch Sophie play as she giggles, sliding down the little slide into the pool.
“Take Sophie with you. She needs something stable. A stable home. I’m not going with you. That isn’t my fucking home and it will never be,” I announce to them, my glare softening as my gaze passes innocent little Soph. “I’m not coming.”
"Rose," I hear my godfather call me, barely louder than a whisper, one last attempt at keeping me from going, but I ignore him and turn away. With that, taking my thoughts of my parents’ abandonment with me, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and take off, running through the night to my isolated retreat of the forest.
*~*~*~*~*
A/N: HEYYYYYYYY!
This is a short story. That is my explanation to the short-ness of it :P
My HSH buddies may recognise it as my entry to Kat's co-writing competition :P
(Which to everyone else, I lost, but Kelly/LR won and their [Katt29 and xXKellyXx] joint story is being posted under the WattPad account of Kally29_X)
I hope you liked it! Comment and vote?
It's as a mystery/suspence, because I reallly can't think of the second category :P There is no category called: emotional/drama/dealing with emotions/loss. So yeah.
COMMENT! <33
I REMEMBERED MY JOINT WORD! ALL HAIL! :P
Vomman <33
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Roxy's Short Stories
Short StoryA compilation of my short stories, spanning a variety of genres.
