It's never a pleasant experience to watch someone you love drive away from you. I watched as my dad pulled out of the driveway, and conducted one final wave as he disappeared down the hill. I sighed; heading to the back door, and yanking it open, being greeted by my two overly joyful dogs. "Hey girls." I say, leaning down to pet Nicki on the head and feel her warm tongue kiss my hand. I throw my bags on the floor, exploring to see what has been cleaned and rearranged while I was gone. The counters were spotless, and the floor was swept. Sparta, the cat stared up at me and meowed. I smiled down at her, and reached down to pet her just as she escaped my reach.
As I settled into the silence, I ascended the stairs to my room. Curvy, steep steps that I had fallen down countless times. I held my breath as I opened the door, already knowing what I would find there; an empty spot where my sister's bed once stood. I felt, somewhat abandoned really. In the past couple of weeks, she had been carrying her stuff down to her new basement bedroom. I had been begging for my own room for a long time, but in another sense, it was like she was leaving me, and we were growing apart. There wouldn't be those giggles in the middle of the night when neither of us were tired or able to sleep. No late nights watching movies. No more grumbling at each other and fighting over the kind of music we should listen to. All petty things really, but I guess you don't understand how much you love something or someone until you lose them. You just take advantage of the good times you have together and when all those good times are ended it's . . . Over.
My family was all gone, celebrating grandparent's day, and the fact that the next day my grandmother was to have surgery and wouldn't be able to walk for a while. I considered skipping the get together, but then I realized that I would probably regret it. I had just turned 15, and my stepsister, who had moved, was 16. She thought she had outgrown on me, and only liked me on those particular days when she was feeling in a childish mood. I was much more mature than she realized though, and while she stood around and gossiped about people, I was giving them the chances that they deserved. She barely knew anyone, not even me, and we had lived together for at least 6 years now.
As I walked down to my aunt's house, I noticed some boys sitting in the ditch and fooling around, as boys often do. I knew as I grew up, I would miss that; that freedom. I didn't particularly want to go to my aunt's. I'd rather have sat alone in my room, getting over the fact that I wasn't sure when I would see my father again for sure. I missed him. He was the man that had raised me, and I'd always looked up of him. When I was at home, it was like; I was always alone; even when the house was full of people. Did they not see my growing up? I was aging before my own-mirrored reflection, and even I saw that happening.
I am no genius. I was never a genius, or super-smart at anything. I've never been able to completely express my feelings, and revenge is in my blood. I hate people who break promises, and I would rather spend my time alone than with someone else my age. Other people can influence me, but they can't fix me. I can't depend on someone else to erase my problems and past. I guess I never really understood that. I went to counselors, expecting them to make my problems disappear like magic. Like they were some kind of wizard. I should've known much better than that. I shouldn't have been so foolish, but when you are thrust into a depression state, you only want someone to take that pain away, even if that means taking your own life to get rid of the pain. You just want to stop hurting.
Is there an afterlife? Where do we go when we die? What if we are hopeless? What if there is nothing to live for, or die for, for that matter? Why are we living, then? Why do we continue to live if there is nothing afterword; because it makes a difference. Why would we enjoy a life for ourselves that we only have once? Selfishly, that's what we want, but what about our children, our children's children, and their children, as well? Wouldn't we want a better world for them? Why would we only care about our life span, when after we no longer have the gift of life, life continues? Even if there is not a God, which I believe there is; we must live for the future. We as humans cannot understand everything. We do not see everything we don't not know everything.
I think of all these things as I enter my aunt's yard where my family is laughing and joking with each other. I am bummed out, because I still miss my father. I do not smile, and I don't look up from the ground as I arrange myself a seat on the concrete. I look up at everyone, and they seem not to notice me, but continue on with their sheer joy. I see right through this. There is no real joy, but man made. It is a fake smile, a fake laugh and a cheesy joke to make someone else smile, if only for a split second. We hope to brighten the lives of others because we cannot brighten our own.
