Risqué Red

Walking into the attic, to clean out the last area of my childhood home, a tear slides down my cheek. It has been an endless day; one I would not wish on my worst enemy. Dad is gone and there is no turning back the clock. The last words we said to each other were horrible, and then I left. Now, 3 years later, I'm here to pick up the pieces of my life and throw them away. I have two days to get this done or I'll lose my job. Mr. Roth was not happy that I had to leave, or that I'd be using bereavement time. He's such a jerk.

Dragging the garbage bag across the floor, it gets snagged on something, so I tug on it. Still, the black plastic is caught, so I yank up and down. At the end of my rope, fury fills me and I pull with all of my 110 pounds. Despite that, it does not come loose. Just as I'm about to give up, the bag rips, and I tumble backward into several boxes of my father's things.

"Yup, that's just typical!" I shout while feeling all the anguish of this horrible day pour out of me.

Laying back, with my head on a pile of old moldy sleeping bags, covered in dust, I take a moment and just cry. He never even took me camping.

Feeling that old anger build up again, I scream, "This is bullshit! I always have to clean up after you! Even when mom left, you never thought about me or my feelings! You didn't care that I was hurting or that I blamed myself."

Standing up, I hit my head on the rafters and feel this intense pain radiated throughout my body. Every single swear word comes to mind, but I say nothing and just pick up the pile of blankets that fell over.

Finding an empty box, I stuff these smelly nasty things inside and notice a light shining in the corner behind me. Turning around quickly, to see who is there, I realize that it's no one and I'm still all alone. Feeling silly, I walk over and find a box of toys.

Sitting on the floor, I pull each one out. It's all junk, but then I find a picture of her. Thinking back to a different time, so long ago. We were a happy family, or so I thought, but what did I know at 8 years old?

"You were so beautiful, Mom. Everyone said that I looked just like you, but I didn't believe them. Now I see it... We have the same eyes, and I have your nose, plus we have the same build. Thanks for the boobs, by the way." I say and then giggle.

Setting the picture down gently, I grab another item and it's my hug-a-bear! Squeezing it to my chest, I remember that day all over again.

"Listen to me Ruby, I have to go now and I'll be gone for just a little while. If you need a hug, squeeze your bear and it will be like me, hugging you back." She whispered.

Hearing this, I asked, while lying in my tiny pink bed, "Why do you have to go? Don't leave me with him. Daddy doesn't snuggle or tuck me in as you do."

With tears streaming down her face, she wiped them away and said, "I'll be back real soon my sweet jewel. Now go to sleep and know I love you. Daddy will be home soon, so close those big brown eyes for mommy."

I never saw her again after that, and now that I'm grown, I know why. Living with my father was a nightmare that she could no longer endure, but mom left me here and for that, I would never forgive her or myself. None of this was my fault, but he blamed me for her leaving us. To this day, I can't believe what he put on me as a child, yet that small voice inside still believes he was telling me the truth.

Setting the bear next to her picture, I then find the source of the light. Picking it up, I'm shocked that the battery didn't die.

Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me. How is my Nintendo DS still working?