I ran to the shower and quickly got undressed, making sure to put the disgusting clothes in the wash. My mom was still...still leaning on the fridge as I started some nice hot running water and dipped my body in. Not much was happening, except I could still hear those two jerks laughing outside. They thought they were sooo funny, and I just can't let that happen can I? As I planned ways to get them back, most involving public emmbarrasment, my sister opened the bathroom door. I then continued to pull the shower curtains closed so fast it wipped air onto my face, but I didn't care. It was much better than my younger sister seeing my no no parts.
"WHY." I yelled at her in my strictest tone that I use so often with Kenna. What can I say? She annoys the crap out of me. But then a feeling came over me, one I can't really explain. The kind where people talk about how they felt...something, but didn't know what. It was as if a rabid bear found its way into the house but I hadn't yet found out, just kind of felt that something weird was going on. I looked around the room, trying to find a sign of anything, anything at all, but nothing came to sight. Except Kenna's eyes.
See, I have punched Kenna in the stomach twice before, but she hadn't once done as much as flinch. I haven't even seen her cry once. My mother told me that when Kenna was a baby as small as a month old, she had never cried. No screaming, no tears, by far the easiest baby of the two of us to take care of. But there standing at the door was Kenna. She had tears filling her eyes, one rolling down her cheek to touch the right side of her lip. A panic came over me, making me jump from the tub and onto the towel I had pre-laid down onto the ground in front of me. I didn't care if she saw my stuff at this point. Kenna was CRYING, to the point of ACTUAL. TEARS. Through sobs, Kenna spoke.
"Man. You have really big bahoobies." I quickly grabbed my towel and scowled in her direction, covering myself in the warm cloth. The things I do...
She did the hand motion to tell me 'Come on' while wiping a tear from the left side of her face. The feeling I had in the pit of my stomach made me want to barf just like I did all over Weston's shoes. As I just finished tucking in the end of the towel to make it stay up, she stopped walking. We were in the kitchen.
"Mom, why are you still in the freaking fridge?" I said in a mocking tone, instant regret making it's way through my body. Kenna began to sit on the floor, crossing her legs and hiding her head in her arms. Crap, she's legitimately crying. Break down crying. This was bad. The window was wide open, producing cool air to fill the room and blow my hair just slightly. Trees danced and flowers swirled, allowing me to feel loopy and want to just be alone in the woods.
But I had problem at hand. I looked down at my sister once more, realizing that her pants and sleeves were soaked. Her crying was so quiet for a moment I had forgotten that there were things I needed to do, that didn't include going off into la-la land. But one look made me see that I needed to figure this out. With Kenna crying, there was only one other option to my crisis. Mom.
"H-hey, mom? Kenna is BAWLING. Um, do you know what's wrong?" I say in the most nonchalant voice I could manage. Though it cracked and wavered, it was still worthy of a prize at a time like this. Mom hadn't answered, just staring into the fridge as if it would make her rich. I start again, this time a little annoyed: "Mo-" Kenna begins to interrupt me, not making my annoyance issue any better but helping my anxiety by a long shot. There was something comforting about hearing another person's voice, even at a time like this. Especially at a time like this. I wasn't going to be one to stop her.
"Vivian! There's no point!" She surprised me with the inflection in her voice. "Can't you see?! She's dead! She hasn't moved for hours, and she isn't breathing! Look, there is a water glass right there." She said while pointing, then pauses to take a second to catch her breath. "Vivian, I...I just..." She didn't finish her sentence, but it was much better left that way. I didn't know what to do. Being the eldest I was supposed to say something, anything. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I had so many feelings balled up inside me just waiting to show, show how much angst, dismay, anguish, and helpless I felt. The one thing that was constant in my life, the fact of knowing that my mom was always here for me and would always be by my side, was ripped from my life like a piece of paper. And the worst part was knowing there was nothing I could do about it.
I dropped to my knees, warm tears starting to fill my own eyes, and stared in horror and sorrow at the sight before my eyes. I began to see the deadness in her eyes, and the water glass sitting on the counter next to the fridge, the one Kenna had told me about. Her eyes looked blood-shot from where I lay. It was exactly how my heart felt, hurt and dead. At this point, all I could do was stare and cry, two of the worst things on the planet. But I remembered I still had a family that was counting on me. So, going against the feeling of sitting and crying, I got up. Originally, I wouldn't have sat next to Kenna and hugged her, because that would have caused me extreme pain. But I felt she needed one, and to be fair I kind of needed one, too. So I sat next to her, and wrapped my arms around her waist. As I laid my head on her shoulder, neither of us talked. But we were together and sharing a moment. And though it was by far the worst one of my life, it was something that I could cherish for a lifetime.
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I sat on the porch, closing my eyes and feeling the breeze as it blew my hair back. My face was still puffy and hot from crying, but I was determined to keep the tears back for a while longer, just until I was completely alone. My life felt as if it were ending, sadness feeling worse than death and more intense than violence. I couldn't find a way to make the feeling go away, except maybe a quick drive and some chocolate. To bad I couldn't drive. I got up, legs wobbling as I started putting all my weight onto them. I started to feel tears well up in my eyes, but held them back as if they were trying to rip through my skull. School would be dreadful, nobody caring or even looking in my direction. I looked out in the distance, hoping someone, anyone, would come and tell me that my mom wasn't actually dead, she was passed out or something. But in my dream world things were good, happy, always perfect. The real world sucks.
I opened the door, calling for my sister, but she only wined back in response. Gosh, like that helps my emotions. I slammed the door shut, letting her know I wasn't happy either, and heavily sat back down. I then started to hear a car coming down the road. Probably a family, a happy one going on vacation out here in the country. No worries, no complications. Just family time. As I wished I could do just once more, ever in my life. Just once.
My mind started to wander off into thoughts, oblivious to the world around it. But then I remembered the very last thing I did to my mom, and allowed a tear to slip from my dried out eyes. I left my dirty socks on the floor. The whole world slipped away at that moment, nothing mattering, nothing seeming to live. I closed my eyes, trying to escape the cruel world that has taken over my life, but realized it was no use. Nothing escapes once entered. Nothing.
