Holding My Breath [Wattys 2016]

4 0 ~ A a r o n

                 

Flashback ~ December 1, 2010

"Like hell, we will!" I slam the door behind me when I walk inside the house, screaming back at him as loud as I can. Everything inside me is twisting at the idea of closing the theater.

"It's what she wanted!" Dad yells back at me, his face redder than I've ever seen it. He's already halfway up the stairs.

"Wants. She's still here." I say quietly, turning away to walk into the kitchen. I've had enough of this. All we do is fight anymore.

"Aaron--" Dad's voices drops an octave.

"Don't talk about her like she's already gone." I snap, pausing in the hallway to shoot him a glare.

"Aaron--" I cut him off again.

"We can't close the theater. We... We just can't." I grab a jacket and head back to the door instead. I can't stay here. Not right now. But I look back at him, hoping he'll hear what I'm saying. "Dad, please--"

"Aaron, listen." He doesn't keep walking up to his study. Instead, he sits down on the steps and puts his head in his hands.

"No, you're talking crap!" I yell. I wish he would just look at me. I turn the knob, but don't open the door yet. "Just tell me we won't close the theater!"

"You need to listen to me."

"What? What's more important than this?" I start to leave, yanking the door open so a gust of cold air sweeps inside. I only stop in my tracks when I hear what he whispers next.

"She's... She's not. She's..." Dad still keeps his face hidden.

"What?" My voice cracks as I close the door and slump against it. He still doesn't speak, and I can't help but yell again. "Dad, what? Tell me!"

Finally, he looks up at me, his eyes red and puffy. He never cries.

"Your mom died this morning."