The Tough Girls Club

Chapter 17: A Million Tears

        Have you ever had your knees start shaking? Or started to cry, the real, silent kind of tears? Or felt like all the wind was knocked out of you even though you weren't punched? When Alana called me and told me Miss Rose was sick, I felt all three.

        Everything in my head was one ginormous blur. I wanted to go see Miss Rose. I wanted to get on my bike and just ride, ride on forever if possible. But I also had a terrible desire to go back to sleep and pretend that the past month and a half never happened.

        It was so weird to me that someone I only met a month ago could impact me in such a beautiful, terrible way. I've never felt this much love for someone who wasn't a family member.  And she was just sick. Alana didn't even tell me what kind of sickness she had. Maybe she just had a cold, and Alana made a mistake.   

        I threw on a large cardigan to cover my milk and cookie pajamas and ran down the hall to wake up  my mom. She was sleeping soundly, her face hidden by the pillows. I shook her shoulder hard, but she didn't wake up.

        "Mommy!" I screamed, my voice coming out croaky.

        I felt helpless. I slammed my fists down on top of her bed, pound, pound, pound. Miss Rose was going to die. I just knew it.

        Tears streamed down my face and filled my mouth. They coated my face and filled every crevice.

        "Mommy! You have to help me!"

         I hadn't called her that in three years.

        Finally, she woke up. Her face immediately filled with a look that can only be described as sheer terror.

        "Honey! What's wrong? Are you alright? Is there a burglar?"

        "It's Miss Rose. Mommy, she's sick."

        "Where is she? Is she okay?"

        She sits up in bed, her eyebrows scrunched together with concern. In that moment, I realize she loves me more than I could ever know.

        "I don't know. I wasn't actually told that part," I admitted, "But we need to go. And quick. Mom we need to go!" I said, once again pounding my fists on the bed.

        "Okay, okay, let's go," mom said, throwing her bedding off herself. I ran down the hallway and she ran after me.

        My eyes are so blurred by tears that it's hard to see, and my brain can only register one word: go. I must go, and see Miss Rose, before it's too late.

        Mom grabs her keys from the key rack and we run to get inside the car.

        The world looked so much different. Everything was filled with memories of her, and the days I lived without her, and the days I took for granted the fact that she was still alive. And everything was tainted with the watery sheen that came when you were had been or were crying.

        What if she was already dead? If I didn't get the chance to talk to her one last time, I don't think I would ever forgive myself.

        My mom was crying too. She tried not too show it, but I could see the tears sliding down the side of her face. On the first stoplight, she stroked the top of my head, just like she did every other time I showed up at the door to her room, crying.

        "It's going to be okay, honey, you'll see," she whispered to me.

        Her words took the tone of comforting but I knew that she had no way of telling. Nothing was certain anymore.