Losing Hope

7

It was Saturday morning, the best day of the week, usually.
I had slept in late and gentle fall sunlight already fell through my window. The house was strangely quiet, like it was holding its breath.
I found my parents outside on the porch, in what looked like a deep conversation. They looked scared, yet sympathetic when I opened the door.

"Did I interrupt something?" I ask, trying to decipher their sad faces.

"No, it's okay, why don't you go eat your breakfast and get ready for practice." Mom said with a quick glance at dad. I nodded and went back inside. I ran 4 miles ever Saturday morning, and 2 on school day that I practiced with the team. After I ran this morning I was planning on showering visiting Hope.

My parents had looked pretty concerned, but if they were going to tell me they would, I wouldn't have to ask.

When I came downstairs in my nikes and running shorts, I saw them in the kitchen, looking at me with sad eyes.

"Rochelle, we need to tell you something" Dad said, looking down at his feet "you see, I'm Hope hadn't been doing so well and..." He just trailed off, like the words couldn't come from his mouth.

"She passed away this morning" mom finished biting her lip to keep from crying.

I just stared for a moment, then picked up my dish from breakfast and started to rinse it, refusing to acknowledge what I had just heard. I wouldn't believe it. Any minute now I would wake up from this nightmare. From the expressions on mom and dad's faces.

"Rochelle?" Mom asked almost pleadingly.

"She's not gone" I yelled, slamming the plate down. Then almost in a whisper "she can't be"

I had never even considered, never even thought..., I had just been waiting for when she would wake up.

I finished rinsing off my plat, and stuck it in the dish washer, but stayed facing the sink, looking out the window above it. A single leaf fluttered to the ground. I swear I could hear it hit the floor.
A pause.

"Do you want to talk about it Rochelle?"

I spun around, as everything in that still moment came crashing down on me. I couldn't listen, couldn't think. Nor did I want to. I sprinted out of the house, across the street, not even hearing my parents calling behind, or the cars honking at me. I couldn't stop. If I did the truth I tried so hard to ignore would catch up to me. I ran. I ran as the tears clouded my eyes. As the sky that was blue just a few minutes ago, turned grey and let the rain fall down on me. I ran because that was what I did best.

I hadn't noticed that I was running my usual route, until I found my self back at my house.
My hands on my head I leaned my head back to look up at the sky, the clean drops of rain mixing with the salt of my tears.

Hope was dead.

Gone.

She was never going to wake up.

I had never believed in God before. But I needed someone to blame.

"How could you do this!?" I screamed into the sky "she didn't deserve it. She had her whole life ahead of her." I chocked on my words. "How could you take her away?"

I pounded my fists against the side of the house.

"How could you?"

I cried, leaning my forehead on the wall.

The tears kept rolling from my eyes, my body shook, and my breath came in ragged breaths.

I thought I knew what pain was, but that day, that word took on a whole new meaning.