The Third

II

"Come on sweetheart," my mother called from the front door. I stumbled out of the kitchen hurriedly, wiping the last few crumbs from my face I skidded to a stop by my white Keds, taking a moment to smoothen my pleated skirt before stepping carefully into my shoes. I had slept in three extra minutes that morning, an day schedule had been thrown off since. 

"Sorry Mother!" I exclaim in a distressed manner, sliding into the back seat of the car and pulling on my seatbelt quickly. I smoothen my hair as my mother pulls the Porsche SUV out of the garage. Classical Mozart plays quiet on the car radio, yet my 11 and a half year old brain could not be bothered by the sound of it. "Uh, Mum? Do you mind if me change the station?" I ask her shyly.

"What was that you just called me?" She snaps, a scowl immediately covering her face as her eyes dart to the rearview mirror to glare at me. 

"Mother," I answer hastily. "Mother. I said mother." She gives a curt nod before resuming her silent pose in the driver's seat. "Mother..? May I change the radio station?" I ask nervously, anxiety building as her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. 

"The music that I assume you are implying..." she trails off, her fury on full view. "Now why... Have you any... Do you want to be seen as just another unintelligent, careless, slut?" She finally asks, the car still moving as she turns around fully in her seat to chastise me. I can't stop the small whimper that leaves my lips. "Do you?" She roars. 

"N-No mother."

"Well you are surely making it seem like it." She closes her eyes and breathes at me before showing her wild and furious eyes once more. "You want to listen to music that the scum on the bottom of my shoe prefers, and you have the audacity to challenge me!"

"Mother, p-p-please watch the road," I stutter out finally breaking my staring match to look ahead of her out the windshield. 

"You dare try and ell me how to drive a car!" She bellows, unaware of the fast approaching car, drifting in and out of our lane from the other half of the motorway. 

"Mum!" I screech, pointing ahead of us, She turns her head a mere moment too late, unable to stop in time for the car slamming in front of us, its speed severely less than our own. Slamming into it with extreme force, my head hist the side of the car, making a dull thud. Looking ahead, I let out a strangled sob, yanking my way out of my seat in the back by kicking my door open. I stumbled to the front of the car where my mother's body lay amidst the broken glass. Her waist hinging over the steering wheel, and her feet were entangled in her seatbelt. Blood pooled around her head.

My head pounded but I sat beside my mother, glass cutting my tall socks, skirt, and skin, yet I held her until the last bit of life lifted from her body. Not much later, the ambulance pulled up. But I already knew what they were going to say. There were too late; my mother was dead. 

Gasping, I sit upright in my bed. My skin is crawling. There are beads of sweat on my forehead. My sheets and blankets are all thrown aside, and my heart is pounding faster than a racehorse's after the Kentucky Derby. The image of a young girl cradling her her mother, her green eyes tinted red, her cheeks trials with tears, and her thick brown hair billowing in the wind. "It was just a dream... It was just a dream..." I murmur repeatedly to myself.Placing my feet firmly on the ground,I feed a hand through my tanged, messy hair. It wasn't though, was it? A voice nags inside my head. I cover my mouth as a sob racks through my body, feeling my chest begin to convulse. 

Grabbing my school ID and lanyard in a haste, I rush out of the room carefully, making sure not to take my roommate. The moment I've made it down the hall, my knees give way from underneath me and I fall to the ground. I can't breathe anything beside the tears and sobs that have overcome my body. "Mummy, " I cry out. "Mummy, I'm sorry. " My bare skin rubs violently against the pavement, and I feel myself crying for everyone: my two brothers, Chaz and Lou, my cousin Harry, my aunt and uncle who took such good care of me after my mother left this world. , my father with whom I have never met, and my mother. My mother, who was always extremely hard on me, only wanted the best for my future, and spent the last moments of her life chastising me for a stupid request. I could have like classical music like I was supposed to. I could have been a good daughter. I could have done what I was told, and she would still be alive. It's my fault. She's dead, and it's my fault.

Unaware of how long I'm sitting there, I finally stand, wiping away the last few tears that are residing on my cheeks and stepping towards the 24-hour gas station. I turn to the cashier after the bell rings, losing a lighter onto the counter. "A pack of Marlboros, please," I sniffle, throwing a 10 American Dollar onto the counter beside the lighter. Slipping the change into my back pocket, I slip[ the box into my hand, feeling sickeningly comforted by the familiar shape of the cardboard box. "Have a nice night," I say with a feeble smile. 

"Yeah, you too," He answers genuinely, smiling and training his eyes on me as I walk out of the station. There is a lit cigarette between my lips less than ten seconds later. You shouldn't be doing this, a voice calls to me. You're supposed to be staying clean! They shout. 

"Never said nufin' about cigarettes. Drugs, yes. Cigs? Nah." Exhaling a large cloud of smoke, I'm filling my lungs with the sensation that comes with the sweet tar. Back at campus, I lean against the base of an oak tree. Blowing through the pack without care, I look down to see that nearly 3/4 of them are gone, mashed in beneath my feet. Resentment starts to set in, but the other part of me is relieved. The crushing weight on my chest has lessened, feeling far less suffocating. The dark pitch of the sky had turned a little less sour. 

"It's a little late, don't you think?" A voice calls out, this time in real time and not caged through the bars of my head. "What's your name?" 

"What's it to you?" I retort instantly and defensively, my voice slightly muffled from the cigarette trapped between them. 

"Distrustful much?" She counters, making me scoff. 

"Try skeptical," I grunt before returning to the confinements of Sullivan Building. Walking hastily through the halls, I carefully enter my dorm room, sure to keep "Sleeping Beauty" the way she is... Silent. 

I wake up three hours later to an ear piercing scream.