Walking on Fire

Chapter 8

Chapter eight

Aaron Briar

Being lost is like being trapped in a mental maze game. Whether you are lost physically, or mentally, you’re still on the brink of losing sanity and one step closer to insanity. If you are physically lost, then your best chance is trying to find a way back, but after that you’re pretty much stuck and left with your withering sanity. In contrast, if your mind is lost, then it will only seem to get worse, because all the problems are in your head; you’re the only one aware. An intrusion to your cranium can leave you lost forever, but no one can save you this time. It leaves you to fend for yourself, because no one else will since you have been deemed crazy. Well, unless, you believe that there is a higher power on your side. There could always be someone looking after you, as long as you allow them to be. If you don’t have faith in anything, who will have faith in you?

This isn’t an attempt to save your soul, but rather, a fight to save your sanity.

We are all a little insane on this inside.

The process has already begun…

--------

The silence was overwhelming and the awkwardness was practically palpable.

A single, reoccurring, sound was our flatware constantly scraping the dishes.

I sat across from my mom at the long dining table. I could tell something was wrong this morning. It was made evident by the expression she wore as she stared down at her food; avoiding eye contact.

‘Her mood obviously has something to do with my dad.’

He hasn’t called in a while, and you could only assume why that is. Even if we don’t have evidence that he is cheating on my mom, it’s best to say you can assume the worst.

I had recently been contemplating an idea, an idea completely out of the blue; the action that could pull someone to sanity and could bring hope to a household; hope that my mom desperately needed.

I had finally gotten the courage to bring it up, and what better time to bring up then at an awkward meal?

I paused, putting my fork down and taking a quick sip of my orange juice.

“Mom, I think we should go to mass today,” I made eye contact.

Her hand stopped leading half way up to her mouth to put a fork full of food in. She looked surprised and a bit caught off guard by my sudden statement.

She replied solemnly, “We haven’t been to church in over 4 years, Aaron. Can you imagine what the priest would say upon seeing us?”

“I don’t think he would lecture us about not having attended in a long time, but instead be happy to have us back.”

She put her fork down, picked her napkin up from her lap, and dabbed the corner of her mouth. As her eyes wandered in thought, the maid in charge of cleaning up the table came by and stopped in front of us; waiting for the “go ahead.”

“Louisa,” my mom turned her attention to the patient maid, “I think we are both finished with our food. We have to get dressed if we’re going to make it to 12:30 mass on time.” She pulled her mouth into a tight smile and looked at me before handing her plate to Louisa.

I did the same, and then headed off to the side of the house where my bedroom was located.

After shutting my door, I went to my separate “formal wear” closet and chose a dark blue dress shirt, black bow-tie, and black suit pants.