Sight

Twenty One.

I walked into my home, the smell of dad's after shave and his cooking filling the house, I smiled, I was surrounded by comfort.

"We're home!" Mom called out, kicking the door shut and dropping the black duffel bag she held.

From the cut out which led to the kitchen, dad's head popped out, an apron hanging loosely around his neck. His hair, disheveled, his green eyes were lit up, his pink lips drawn into a large grin and was supported and surrounded by the slight growth of his stubble bordering his jaw line. He wore shorts and a green tee shirt, looking at home as ever, "Kiddo!" He exclaimed and waved around the wooden spoon he held in his head, stained a whitish red, "Hey daddy-o." I smiled and walked towards him, he stepped forward and wrapped his hands around my body, I suddenly felt so small, so frail.

"You're home." He sighed, sounding like he was going to burst into tears, I held mine back, "I'm home." I felt two little arms wrap around one of my legs; I looked down and narrowed my eyes at him, "Hey baby boy." I grinned and he looked up, his big eyes filled with tears, "I thought you were going to die." He said, his little voice so immersed in sadness and heart break, I felt the hot tears stream down my face. I buckled my knees and gathered his little body in my arms, kissing his forehead, "I'm still here, see?" I took his hands and placed his little palms on my face, he stuck his tongue out, "Sadly." I looked at him in disbelief and he giggled, I playfully growled and shuffled around his curly locks, "Brat."

"Mom! Maia called me a brat!" He whined and mom just laughed and followed dad into the kitchen.

I stood up and walked up the stairs, "I'll be right down." I called out and ascended at a slow pace, feeling giddy from the spinning of my head, the doctors said that I could experience some light headedness, they told me to ensure my stability not to fall.

"No!" Mom worriedly yelped and took the steps two and a time racing to hold onto my arm, I looked at her in alarm, "You need to be careful, I saw you swaying." She said, her voice shaking with fear, I nodded and we walked together to my room, "Call me when you're done. I'm going to go change." Mom said quietly and I nodded, she walked away, not before shooting several glances at me over her shoulder to make sure I didn't collapse and break my skull.

I walked into my room and was instantly coated in the perfection of normalcy. The sight of my purple walls, the comfort of my soft plush white sheets, I frowned when I saw the black box with the ribbon still sitting on my bed.

I walked over to it; it was the present dad got me for my birthday, the Saturday they came home. I didn't even bother opening it, I just walked out of the house and walked away. The day when I saw my teeth fall into the sink, the day I saw another me walk up the street, the day I walked to the Middelton Park and saw the girl whose face peeled away to nothing but flesh.

I hated that day.

I pulled away the satin ribbon, its softness caressing my fingers dearly, and it fell away, adding colors to my sheets, I opened the box and inside laid a black dress with a tinge of red. I pulled it out and rubbed the fabric between my fingers, it was so soft but thick, like velvet. The straps were wide and lace along with the sweetheart neckline that came with it. It was gorgeous. I looked inside the box again and saw a little card, 'Your father thought this dress was too scandalous, but I knew you'd look beautiful in it, I love you Maria, happy birthday.' I smiled at my mom's neat handwriting and shook my head.

I put the dress neatly back inside, took the ribbon, rolled it up and placed atop the dress and closed the box. I lifted the mass covered in black and placed it on my dresser.