Tuesday, December 9th, 2014 1:30 PM
Normalcy. What even is normalcy?
Is normalcy coming home every day, kissing your parents on the cheek, dumping your backpack by the door and slumping down in front of the television? What is reality? How do you know when it's all an allusion?
That's the funny thing about the universe. It can change your perception of reality in a heart beat. Every little thing that you had ever known, could change in less than a second. There's this theory that every thing happens for a reason. There's also a theory that the universe has a very particular set of laws. There's a theory that there's a god that created everything.
What kind of universe, or god, takes something away from someone that is so important to them? They can't breathe without it. They can't eat or sleep. They are not coping. Does the universe care? No. Every thing happens for a reason. You can't be mad at me for hating the universe, though. Right?
I stared at the ceiling. I could probably count every tile in every ceiling in a matter of minutes.
"These are all the packages we have," The balding, fat man squeaked; handing my grandmother and I a packet of papers.
A seventeen year old girl, planning the funeral for her mother, father, baby brother and sister.
I couldn't help but think that it was all my fault. They must have decided to go to Chuck E Cheese's. They were coming to pick me up at school, as a treat for Maria. I choked on a sob that tried to escape my throat.
"They were on highway 1-10. They were on their way to pick you up from school. A drunk driver t-boned them at an innersection"
A drunk driver? In the middle of the day? Who gets drunk and decides to take a drive at twelve in the fucking afternoon?
"We'll take the ultimate package." My grandmother snipped, snootily pushing her nose in the air. I started to recount the ceiling tiles. I think there is one-hundred and twelve, but I could be wrong.
"The drunk driver is currently being detained down at the station. He's getting detoxed. Are you going to press charges?"
Press charges? I felt angry, I could feel the rage bubbling up my throat, threatening to vomit out my mouth and attack the police officer.
"Yes."
"Very well, here is all the information you'll need, and all the payment plans."
"There is no need for payment plans, we will pay it all now." A hundred and fourty-five tiles? I was way off the first time. "Come along, Rebecca. We are done here."
Suddenly I was in the back of my grandmother's Rolls Royce. She was telling her chauffer to bring us back to my house. But it's not my house anymore. My grandmother decided to sell it. In my mother and father's will it grants her control of their affairs, and she's now my legal guardian.
My grandmother clicks distastefully at my mother's choice in interior design and places her purse on the table that was the first piece of furniture that my parents had bought together.
"You should start packing now, we will be leaving for New Hampton
"Your family was in a fatal car accident."
the day after the funeral."
Apparently the funeral is in two days.
The universe sure has a funny way of going about things.
