A Void Dance

Chapter 9 CJ

15 years ago

My 10th year of life was the worst. It began with my 10th birthday at Chuck E. Cheese. My parents let me invite my entire class, and most of them came. We had pizza and my favorite type of cake, a vanilla cake with strawberries in the middle. I was a huge tomboy obsessed with skateboarding and Tony Hawk. So, of course, the decal on top of my cake was a skateboard, and all my gifts were related to skating, including a Tony Hawk video game. When I blew out my candles, my mom looked at me like she was so proud, like I was alive and that being alive was an accomplishment alone. Her blue eyes glittered at me, and I had never felt so loved.

Two weeks after my birthday, I woke up Saturday morning and ran into my parents' bedroom. I stopped short when I saw my father sitting on the side of their bed with his head in his hands. I crept up to my father. "What's wrong, Daddy?" I asked. "She's gone," he whispered.

"Who's gone, Daddy?" I asked. He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Your mom...she left us, " he whispered almost too quietly for me to hear. I was stunned into silence.

What could he possibly mean? Mama left? Like to the store? I started looking around their room and noticing the slight differences. I ran into their bathroom, and all her toiletries were gone. I ran into her closet, and it all became too real. The only thing left in her closet was the empty white plastic hangers hanging like bones. My tears started falling, and the ache in my chest was so intense I felt like I couldn't breathe.

My father came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I pushed his arms away and screamed in his face, "What did you do?!" I ran out of their bedroom and down the stairs to the front door. I opened the front door and saw her car was gone. I ran back into the house, seeing my Father and sisters standing there. "What did you do!?" I screamed at them. "What did I do!?" I screamed as the sobs ripped through me. My father took me and my sisters into his arms and held us as we cried together.

My mother left me; she didn't even give me a chance to fix whatever I must have broken to make her go, I thought.

I broke away from my father's embrace and ran to my room. I grabbed my blanket off my bed and wandered back into my parents' room. I went into my mother's closet, curled into a ball on the floor, and cried until I fell asleep. I slept there every night for a week, desperately wanting to feel as close to her as possible. My father had opted to sleep on the couch since the day my mother left.

For the next month, everything felt like a dream. I walked through each day on autopilot, and no matter what anyone said, it all sounded like my ears were in a fishbowl.

One month after my mother left, I came home from school and found my father sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. I walked up to him, cautious and shaking, but said nothing.

"Oh, hi, Baby?" He said, looking at me with swollen and bloodshot eyes." Come here and sit down," he patted the spot next to him on the couch. "So, there was an accident." Instantly, I felt fear clawing at my insides. "Mama?" I asked. "No, baby." He took a deep breath, "Grandma and Aunt Kim," and paused for a long time. "They didn't make it," he sobbed.

My grandmother and Aunt Kim were my father's mother and sister. They were my favorite family members after my mother left. Without them, getting through my mothers abandonment would have been impossible. They brought us food and comfort almost every day.

"Didn't make what?" I asked, not understanding what he was trying to say. "Um, They died, baby," he whispered with his palms down in his lap and tears rolling down his cheeks. My eyes widened, and I couldn't believe what I heard. Every woman I loved was gone? I slid to the floor on my knees, and my father wrapped his arms around me, and together we cried once again.

Two weeks later, at my Aunt and grandmother's funerals, I stood there dressed in black, holding my father's hand on one side and my sister's hand on my other side. I hid in the bathroom during the wake to avoid all the people and their "I'm sorry" and "You poor thing." I just didn't want to hear it. I was numb, and everything was dark.

When I got home, I wandered into my room and numbly grabbed my blanket off my bed. I went to my mother's closet and once again curled into a ball on the floor amongst the empty hanging bones and cried my last tears as ice settled over the pieces of my broken heart.