Mask

Death

The night my father passed, everything changed. I was fairly young the night he died. My feet could barely touch the floor as I sat on a chair. He was in bed, in pain, gasping for air. He requested only a handful of people to be near him during this time. I wondered if this was the right choice, to have me near him, watching and unable to do anything.

I held onto his left hand. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing down my face, dropping onto our hands. I tried hard not to disturb the quiet of the room with my sobbing.

He turned to me and attempted to smile. "Please, Annie, don't cry. I'm never truly gone."

I tried my best to stop. I used my free hand to wipe the tears away but I couldn't help it. I didn't want my father to die. I stuttered. "Okay daddy. I'll try."

He let go of my hand and patted my head. "That's my girl."

I quickly made sure to grab his hand. I needed the reassurance that nothing was going to happen to him. That he was going to get better and take me on walks and read me stories again. I didn't sleep at all that night. My mother sat on the other side of the bed and would occasionally leave the room. I didn't mind. It gave me a chance to have him all to myself. Unfortunately, he didn't survive the morning.

Everything from then was a blur. I know my mother remarried quickly and didn't invite me to the wedding. I was left out but didn't mind. I was still mourning the loss of my father and couldn't understand how she could get married so quickly. I felt betrayed. She didn't love my father as much as I thought. After coming back from her honeymoon, she met me in my room and closed the door behind her. I was sitting on top of my bed, playing with my dolls when she came in. She was smiling as she told me she brought a gift for me from her travels.

I was intrigued. What could this possibly be? She held out a brown box that looked ragged and frayed. I can't imagine her carrying the box from wherever she got it from. Delicately, she opened it. It was as if she didn't want whatever diseases it held to touch her skin. Excitedly, she showed me a full face mask.

It was the most ugliest thing I had ever seen.

It had black feathers on the top and wood chipping all around. It seemed like moss was pocking its way through the openings with a red hue surrounding the edges. There was an opening for the eyes as it seemed to stare into my soul. As a child, the mask scared me.

"Lets put this on you, shall we?"

I wanted to protest and run away but I learned early on not to disobey. She came over and put it on me. There was no string but it seemed to fit automatically to my face. I tried to take it off but it felt glued to me. I flayed about and fell onto the floor. I screamed to get it taken off and cried. Mom stared down at me with a smile on her face. I asked for help but she turned around, leaving the box behind.

"This is for your own good, child. You'll understand more when you are older."