Redwoods

A Grave Farewell

I stand over my bags, now full of my only earthly possessions. I grab my pictures from my desk and was about to put them with the rest when I see what they are a picture if. My eyes start to water. It's me and my family, happy as can be. I stand next to my twin sisters, all of us making overly dramatic faces as we point at my mom's over sized belly, carrying Jack. She rolls her eyes in the picture. It was a happy time. The next picture is of my dad. I couldn't believe I had lost them a year ago. Both my sister's and dad had been taken from me, a freak car accident. I feel the sobs building up in me and before they can escape throw the pictures in my bag, safely away from my gaze.

I put my hands on my now empty desk and stand there, trying to make the shaking stop. Now was not the time for this. A knock came at my door. I turn around to see what's left of my mom. She is no longer the rosy, smiley women from the photo. The alcohol had changed her into a mess. She was like the ghost of the women she used to be. Dark bruises under her eyes, her hair greasy and thin, eyes dead. She folds her arms and tries to give me a smile but it looks strange on her pail face.

"Hey there, kiddo." She says. I don't respond, instead busying my self with stuffing this and that into my bag. "My rides almost here." I mutter, slinging my bags over my shoulder. I start to walk past her when she grabs my arm. Her grip is weak, but I still stop. "I'm sorry." She says, her voice breaking. Because of her, I had lost my brother. Because of her, I was leaving home. I had to take care of my self and her throughout this entire year, and I knew it was her fault. Her fault I was losing everything. But she was still my mother. Tears stung my eyes once again. But this wasn't the time. My tears had dried up about a month after constant sobbing. Those tears ended when I had to take care of the two people I had left. And now I was losing them to. Jack had been gone a month now, adopted by a young couple. I hoped he would be happy, that they would be able to raise him right, but that didn't stop me from wanting him back. They took Jack, but decided an emotional teenager wasn't exactly what they wanted to deal with. They just left me behind without a second thought to where I might go. I wanted to hate them for that, felt like I should loath them, but all I could feel at the moment was gratitude that Jack was safe. It wasn't their fault he was gone. It was mine. I had, after all, been the one to call family services. What choice did I have? Let Jack be raised by his sister and watch what used to be his mother drink and pop pills, becoming only an empty shell. No, that life can mess you up. I should know. I had to live it.

A strong knock comes to the door. I gently pull my arm away from mom. Her eyes go back to their usual emptiness and she fumbles her way back to her bedroom. That's the best goodbye I should expect from her. Grabbing my bags, I walk towards the door. At this point, most people would look around their home and what they are leaving behind, but for me there's a reason I'm leaving it behind. I'm the one who chose this, and that was so I'd never have to look at what my home had become ever again. Opening the door, I glance up at the man standing at the door, then keep looking up. He was a tall man, almost as tall as our door. He had a strong jaw and wide shoulders, with black brown hairs poking out. He didn't have a full head of hair, but he also didn't look bald. It still looked good, in a way, but it wasn't a full head of hair. His face is grim when he looks over me. I can easily say that I have never seen this man in my life, and he has never seen me.

"Jonas?" I ask. he gives me a curt nod. Shouldering by bags, I make my way past him. Parked in front of our house is a taxi. I had to stop and stair for a moment. I had never ridden in a taxi, thinking they only existed in tv shows and cartoons, but here was a bright yellow taxi. Making my way to the car, I went to the back and flung open the trunk. Stuffing my three large bags in, I close the trunk. Keeping my backpack in hand, I turn to Jonas.

"That everything?" He says, his smooth. I nod my head and brush my midnight black hair out of my face. "The rest are already on their way." I say. He nods his head. Getting into the car, I scoot to the opposite side of the taxi and pop my headphones in, listening to my MP3 on shuffle. Jonas gets in after me and motions to the driver. We start to leave my neighbor hood and I pointedly look on the opposite side of the street from my house. You may call me cruel for not taking one last look at my childhood home, but over the past year it had somehow changed from a place of safety and rest to a type of prison. The only thing that had kept me there over this past year was now gone, moved away with some young couple and hopefully on his way to a better future. I only hoped I'd be able to find any future.