Tell Me Why

Waiting

I trudged up the stairs, my book bag weighing me down. I opened the front door and slammed it, letting my mom know I was home. She would usually call out from the kitchen 'I'm in here Alice, what did you learn today?' And I would reply with the usual 'Nothing that works get me anywhere in life'

But today was different. This time it was silent. 'Mom I'm home. Mom?' I called out. Nothing. I made my way to the kitchen, where my mother would usually be waiting for me. As I rounded the corner that led to the kitchen I spotted hair sprawled out around a limp, unmoving head on the floor. My heart stopped and my blood turned ice. It was my mom. I rushed to get and put her head in my lap, putting my ear next to her mouth to check if she was still breathing. She wasn't. I started crying now. I stroked her face. 'Mom mom wake up! Please wake up!' Sobbing, I placed my forehead on hers and whispered my goodbyes.

I woke up in a cold sweat. I glanced at my clock. 3:36 a.m. it read. I sat up and put my head in between my knees. Why was I still having these nightmares? My mom died when I was twelve. I'm sixteen now and I still wake up in the middle of the night with the same exact nightmare. Does my body ever get tired of not sleeping? I asked myself. My body tingled in response. Of course not.
I got up and went to take a shower because I knew I wasn't going to fall back asleep. I got my towel and headed for the bathroom. I turned the water to the nearly the hottest it could get and I hopped out of my pajamas and into the shower. I got dressed and went out into the cold morning. It's 5:00 a.m. now. I hope that walking around in the quiet morning would help stop the aching I feel in my chest, but it doesn't. The aching doesn't go away. There is a whole in my heart that causes pain that I have to live with every day, the lining for someone to fill the void my mom left behind. My mom was my best friend, the one who excepted me for who I was. There was no replacing her. Ever since she died I've been that loner girl that sits by herself at lunch, the one that always good straight home after school. I'm the goody two shoes that always gets good grades. I hate my life. I want my mom back.
Mom please come back, please.