Sophie's Philosophy

 Sun shone through the window, the glaringly bright rays reflecting off my mirror directly into my eyes. I squinted a bit, reflexively twitching my cheek in annoyance. Groaning, I rolled back over into the warm, cozy blankets I had buried myself in to the point of near suffocation. An obnoxiously loud sound echoed through the room - my mother was knocking on the door in quick, successive raps.

"Sophie, darlin', wake up! Today is Saturday; you know what that means!" She bubbled, throwing the door open. "My good friend, Lily, and her son are coming over today. Get up, get up!" Mama squealed as she peeled the bedsheets from my grasp. I cried out in protest, covering my eyes with my arms in a desperate attempt to shield them from the insanely bright, irritating thing known as sunlight.

"Oh, what are you doing Sophie, tryna' ta be a vampire? There ain't no vampires down here in the South! There ain't anything out here, really!" Mama huffed, smoothing her apron down over her ankle-skirt. "Breakfast in ten. I made your favorite this morning, some o' my famous country-fried egg omelet! I'll let you off the hook today since Lily is coming over – you don't have to study today, but I expect you to work double hard tomorrow. Make sure to doll yourself up a bit before their arrival, alright?" she called out behind her, shutting the door with a slam. I yawned loudly, rubbing my groggy eyes.

"The sandman must have paid me a visit that night, 'cause I sure am tired!" I muttered to myself, rolling out of bed. My foot caught on the edge of the half-pulled-down and I fell face-first onto the floor with a loud "thump!". "Ow ow ow ow owwie ow!" I yelped, cupping my cheek and wrinkling my nose in disdain. Shakily, I stood up and balanced on my tip-toes, trying to get a good look at the mirror. For some odd reason Mama had put it so high up that I couldn't see our of it properly unless I was standing on the very tips of my tippy-tip-toes!

"You just wait, Sophie! You'll thank me one day for putting this mirror up so high. When you become a pretty young gal, you'll be tall and needing to be lookin' in the mirror all the time. You'll have those pretty blond wavy curls down to your waist, and that Southern accent will make all the boys swoon. You can manage for a few years stretching up on your tip toes 'til that happens, right sweetie?" Mama had insisted, dismissing the idea of lowering the mirror as quickly as I had suggested it. Why did I need to look pretty again today? I wondered, trying to recall what my mother had said. I was half asleep at the time and I didn't know which way up or down was, much less what Mama had said.

"Ah, something about Auntie Lily coming." I said out loud to myself, nodding. Auntie Lily wasn't my actual aunt, but she might as well be. She was the only person who visited Mama and I out here. Not even Papa visited us anymore.

One day, back when I was only eight, Papa told Mama that he had to go somewhere. Papa had to go a lot, and he wouldn't be back for long periods of time. I think it might have been his job, even though Papa never mentioned a job. I can't think of anything else it might have been. Papa had a weird job; lots of scary people would always show up at our old home, demanding that Papa "pay up." We moved soon after that, out here to the country. Papa said that it was better out here, and ever since then no scary people had showed up since. Mama was worried though, and kept asking him why, but all Papa said was "I gotta, I gotta get out of here, I gotta." Papa said that life would be different, and he promised to come back. He sang Mama a story of riches and happiness that would come when he returned. Mama wouldn't let him go though, saying that this didn't seem right, and so Papa agreed not to leave. The next morning though, Papa was nowhere to be found. Although Mama waited and waited, Papa never did come back. Every time the doorbell rang, which was a rare occurrence in itself, Mama would pray that it would be Papa and that he'd have come back with the wealth and happiness he had promised. She'd cry for hours, and soon her wishing for his return turned into spite and anger. She would curse his name and knock over vases in a fury. I didn't know why, but Mama wouldn't wait for Papa anymore. Papa promised to come back though, so I'm not worried. Papa never broke his promises, and he left like this a lot. Something must have come up – even though it had been many years since then, Papa always made sure to come back. Auntie Lily had the same thing happen; maybe that's why she and Mama are such good friends. Women tend to bond with those to whom they can relate. I looked over to my window, sighing at the unchanging landscape that seemed to stretch on and on forever. It wasn't dusty or ugly or dull, not anything like that – the countryside was actually quite beautiful with fields of grass and meadows full of flowers surrounding our modest, quaint, little house. The sunlight seemed to rippled across the fields, rainbows perching themselves over the daffodils in the early spring. The harsh summer that was upon us now was not something to be envied. The lush, green grass had been reduced to brittle, withered tufts of straw, and the flowers had all shriveled up and died along with any hope of being able to go outside in the scorching heat. I hoped Auntie Lily didn't have any problems because of the weather. She had always had an issue with places that were too hot – probably since she had lived in a big city up north most of her life, where they had snow and could build snowmen and catch snowflakes on their tongue while running around and jumping in the snowdrifts.