The Life I Kept From You

The Last Glance

Heeeeey Everyone! So this was just made to be a short story but i decided to add on some more... I MIGHT add more eventually but who knows? MAYBE i will if enough people like it and the next chapter... I dunno haha x) I Hope you like it! 

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It was an average family dinner tonight. My mother, my father and I sat at our oak table, a small candle shunning off a warm, soothing light. The dining room window was open, letting in a light breeze. Nice, calming music began to play idly on our radio. Everything was so perfect. Perfect setting, perfect decor, perfect lighting, perfect mood, perfect time of day. The most beautiful time of day, with the most stunning sunset. Everything was just too perfect. And yet…I felt nothing. I should be enjoying this time with my family…I really am trying. But something about today seems…off. Something is out of place. I just can’t seem to put my finger on it.

I pull myself from my agonizingly long mental droning. I remain quiet, attempting to look pleasant in front of my family. “So, Charlotte, how was school?” My mother’s cheerful voice quickly gained my attention, as I look up from the rice on my plate, which I had been poking idly with my fork.

“Nothing to report.” I tried to sound as friendly and open as possible. “You hardly touched your food.” I hadn’t bother to avert my eyes from the butchered rice on my plate after her last statement. The breeze picked up suddenly. The cold night air stirred its way in and swirled around me, making my hair fly into my face. I shivered.

I hadn’t noticed that mother had walked over to me, and placed a thick blanket over me, wrapping it securely around my shoulders. I looked up at her and smiled. A genuine smile…it was a rare occasion for me. My father landed a light punch on my left arm. I grinned at him, and returned the favor. I knew he always loved it when I smiled, he just didn’t show it as much as mother did. She’d always make a huge deal out of the littlest things. That’s what I love about her. She’s always so happy. She always tries to make the most out of life. It amazes me…I could never be strong enough to even come close to her ambition…I’m just too weak, I suppose.

“Nothing new happened today? Nothing at all? Geez, and I thought somethingwould have happened. No guys attractive enough for ya?” I was stunned. My metal fork slipped from my hand, and clanked against the plate. A light blush appearing on my cheeks. “Ohhh!” My mother and father cooed simultaneously as they bursted into small fits of laughter. I willingly joined in with a mere chuckle.

Throughout the rest of dinner, I began opening up a bit more, laughing and smiling occasionally. Mother always told me to open up more…I’m actually ashamed in myself for not being able to fully open up to my own family…what kind of person does that make me? Would they hate me for doing so? Would they love me more if I actually spoke to them more than I normally do? Would they be proud of me, or would they just push me to open up even more than I had?  They said they’d always love me, and of course I believe them. But…I feel as if they’d be better off if I either get rid of myself, or just open up. And oddly…the second option was the hardest. I need them. I know it’s such a selfish thought, but I truly need them. I’d be lost without them…

I shook my head, clearing the unbearable thoughts of something happening to them from my mind. Clearing my throat, I scrape the wooden chair back, and folded my napkin on the table beside my plate. “Um, I’ll be back…”

“Are you all right, kiddo?” I saw the sincere, concerned stare shining in his eyes. I patted his shoulder with affection, before saying, “Yeah, dad It’s okay. I just don’t feel too well. I’ll be back.” I could see his concerned gleam die down, but I knew I hadn’t convinced him thoroughly.

I glanced at my mother, who had the same expression on her face. I ignored it, and hastily walked through the small living space, and turned left into our small bathroom, locking the door behind me. I propped my elbows up on the sink, and buried my face in my hands, letting out a long, labored breath.

I wish I could make my parents happy…I want to be able to talk to them. I just…can’t. I turned on the cold water and rinsed my face thoroughly, letting the relaxing feeling take over. My breathing was slow in an attempt to calm myself further. After wiping my hands on my jeans, I slowly creaked the door open.

The first words I heard were unbelievable…

“Charlotte! Call 911!” The words that came from my mother’s mouth seemed to be agonizingly slow. I hurried over to the dining area- The lights were on. They must have blown the candle out. What was before my eyes stunned me. It was my father…he was gasping and wheezing, and was sprawled out across the cold, hard linoleum.

The world seemed to be in slow-motion. Everything around me faded to black. The only thing I saw in my vision was my father.

“Charlotte, I said call 911, now!” My olive green eyes filled with the dreaded liquid of my life; Tears. I walked backwards until my back made light contact with the wall behind me. I raised my now shaking arm, and felt around beside me, feeling for the home-phone. Once my fingers wrapped around a plastic object, I squeezed it with all my might, no matter how unnecessary it was.

I fumbled with the phone in my paling hands, my eyes never ceasing to leave my father. I quickly dialed the three numbers I never imagined I’d call — Especially not tonight, where everything I had been perfect.

“911, state your emergency.” My voice caught in my throat. I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. All I could imagine was my father in a casket…dead. Absolutely lifeless.

I dropped the phone. I hadn’t realized until my mother crawled over to it and murmured in panic. A single tear slid down my cheek. My father and I had made eye contact for the first time in this drastic event. A tear slid down his cheek as well. I mouthed the words, ‘I’m sorry’, hoping he’d understand what I had meant. He managed to nod the slightest bit during his current struggle of holding on to life itself.

He suddenly went limp, his eyes closing slowly. The tears poured down, as my mother was already bawling hysterically. She crawled over to my father, and begged him to stay with us.

“Charles! Charles, no, stay with us! Please!” She choked out between sobs and mere coughs. I stared at my father’s body before me. I was devastated as the seconds ticked by slowly. The sound of our clock grew louder and louder with every second. “Daddy…” I whispered insignificantly to myself.

I had lost him…my daddy is gone…I had realized, not only had he died…I had died with him.