Element

Element II.

II.

The day of his funeral no one showed up. It wasn’t a surprise really.  For the past eight years my father became a drunken recluse and I would bet all forty dollars I had to my name that no one knew he was even dead.

As the funeral concluded, I was left standing there staring at the wooden box that held the father I once loved and wondered what was I to do now. Both my parents were dead and all I had left was Michael and there was no way I could reach him.

Just as I stood there a ruff voice interrupted me out of my thoughts.

"Ma'am, I hate to do this but it's time to lower the casket before it gets to late."

I simply nodded and glanced one last time at the casket before I had to let go.

"Are you sure you will be okay? Is there someone you need us to call for you?" The man asked as he leaned on the shovel.

"No, I will be alright. Thank you though." I then quickly turned around ready to leave. 

"You know he was a good man." The man quickly shouted as I took my first step to leave.

"What? You knew my father?" I said over my shoulder.

"Yeah I did. He was a good man when your mother was around. It's a shame to see him go." 

"Well he left a long time ago and the man you knew went with him. Have a good night." 

After that I quickly turned around and made my way to my father's red jeep that I guess belonged to me now. As I climed into the driver's seat my cell phone started to ring and I glanced at the number but didn't recognize it. I quickly ignored the call and started the jeep up and drove home.

That night was the first night I was alone in that house. As the nights seemed to become longer and longer, my restless mind refused to let me sleep. Deciding that getting any chance of sleep was quickly becoming impossible, I got out of bed and grabbed my shoes. I decided to ignore grabbing a sweatshirt seeing how it was the middle of July. I quickly slipped on my shoes and made my way to the backyard.

Our house was not big by any means but it stood on a big property that backed up right into the forest. Growing up, my mother used to tell me stories about wild and beautiful wolves that would run through the forest day and night with the ones they loved and when they got tired, they would simply transform back to humans and go home until it was time to let their wolves out again. Every time she would catch me starring at the forest she would pull me into her lap and tell me different stories that would make my heart race with excitement hoping that one day I would see them. Of course I knew that these stories were made up but for a little girl, they sent my imagination to a world that I could only dream of.

After my mother's death, I simply ignored the forest. I no longer believed in childish things and I knew it was time for me to grow up. I would simply stay away from the forest until the fighting began. Every time my father and Michael would fight I would seek refuge in the canopy the trees provided. When it stopped, Michael would find me and lead me back home while not saying a single word. This almost became a ritual for us but we knew never to break the silence after the storm. We would always simply let it be until we got back to the house and reality would come knocking on our door once again.

I eventually made my way to the forest and headed for my favorite tree that was about a five-minute walk away. As the silence of the night settled around me, I sat high in the braches and looked out at the stars as my tears began to fall.

Normally I would not let myself cry but I had lost everything today. I was utterly and completely alone and it was only a matter of time before someone realized and I was put in foster care. I was fifteen and I was turning sixteen in two weeks, who would want me then? People only wanted small children who they could love and watch grow up, not some teenager with a messed up life! With that thought in mind, I let loose! I yelled and screamed and I cursed whatever god was up there for doing this to me! Why did I deserve this life!

I cried for the mother I missed, I cried for the father I lost eight years ago, I cried for the brother that left me here alone, and most importantly, I cried for myself until I had nothing left. With the tears finally coming to an end, I watched the horizon and began to see the first rays of golden sunlight peek out over the curvature of the world and I knew I was going to be okay. It was a feeling that settled deep in my chest and for the first time in a long time I felt peace. This was a beginning of a new chapter but this time, I was going to write my own story!