Sophia ✔

Chapter 2 - Promise

Edited✔

WARNING: Chapter contains mentions of blood and violence.

Chapter 2 - Promise

May Third, 2008, 9:24 a.m.

Sophia didn't see her mother for a whole week after that.

The next day, however, she was told that she would get to skip school for a day.

The excitement fades when they pull up to a plain-looking hospital.

The walls seem to grow larger and more intimidating as the child is led through the doors and down the long, winding hallways. She has to squint when she enters a plain white room, fluorescent lights burning her young eyes as she looks up at her father for direction in her confusion.

His daughter follows his tense gaze until she sees her mama resting peacefully on the bed, her tanned skin and dark features a stark contrast to the cleaned linen her body is dressed in.

She's tired, that much Sophia can tell. Her eyes are still smiling brightly, but that light seems to be dimmer than usual.

The father and daughter stay in the unembellished room until the sun disappears. Sophia struggles to stay awake as she lays back in the uncomfortable plastic chair offered to her. Her sluggish gaze looks over to her papa, who held her mama's hand as lightly as possible, almost like he holds a glass doll.

Once they leave, the confusion is still there.

May Ninth, 2008, 10:02 a.m.

Sophia doesn't see her mama at home anymore.

Every day after school she hopes to catch a glimpse of her sitting in the living room, knitting with that red yarn she adored so much, or slicing an apple in the kitchen, a warm smile on her face as she prepares the snack for her daughter.

But she's always disappointed.

Some days it's her father in the kitchen, a simple granola bar in his hand which he gives his daughter before telling her to be ready to leave.

On those days they go back to the hospital, and there her mom is. Still tired, still sitting in that bed, in that boring room, gazing at Sophia with as strong of a smile as she can muster.

"Mama, why are you here?"

The question Sophia had been holding onto for weeks finally escapes her mouth once her father leaves the room.

"Because I am healthier here, and that's all that matters right now."

Not you.

She didn't say it, but Sophia couldn't help the nagging voice in the back of her head from filling in the silence of the room.

May Nineteenth, 2008, 3:45 p.m.

"You know, mama," Sophia chirps as she sits alongside her mother on her uncomfortable bed, a red rose from the vase beside them gripped tightly in her hand. Red roses were her mama's favorite. "We should paint this room, it's too boring."

A shaky laugh leaves the woman's mouth as she runs her hand through her daughter's matching locks.

"What would we do?" Her question is murmured out through chapped lips, hand stilling as she closes her eyes and leans back into the pillow placed below her.

"Oh!" Sophia sits up even straighter, body bouncing slightly as she clasps her small hands together, the rose curling against her excited grip. "Could we do butterflies, like the ones you did in my bedroom?"