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Post by Thursday on Mar 30, 2006 22:59:18 GMT -5
Chapter 1 I took a shakey breath and glanced once more at my pale reflection in the mirror, willing myself not to burst into tears. Why was I even bothering? I guess its true what they say, old habits die hard. Black. All I could see was black. Black dress, black knee-highs, black shoes. The only color I saw was my thick, gold hair. It felt like a sin on a day like this. All I wanted to do was cry. But I couldn't. My body was tired and empty of tears. The kind of tiredness that aches behind your eyes and makes you sigh all the time and make you wish you were anywhere but where you were.
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Post by Thursday on Mar 30, 2006 23:07:44 GMT -5
The whole world felt like it was moving in slow motion. Cars inched by like snails and birds seemed frozen in mid-air. All the way to the church, through tinted windows I looked. But I couldn't see. It was like I wasn't even there. My dad murmured encouraging words, but in reality he was as freaked as me. The sky was clear and blue, not a cloud in sight. The sun shining blindingly bright. Isn't irony a bitch?
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Post by Thursday on Mar 30, 2006 23:16:03 GMT -5
The church was the pride of our town. Built almost a hundred years ago it was that type of cathedral that made you feel like praying even if you thought no one was listening. Cars lined the parking lot and surrounding streets. Black came streaming from every car in sight. Black dresses, black suits. Everyone squirming in the hot summer heat. As my dad and I walked up, a hush fell over the crowd. It felt like thousands of sets of eyes looked our way. I let my eyes drop to the ground trying to ignore it all. Maybe if I shut my eyes hard enough I would open them to find that this was all a horrible dream gone terribly wrong. But it was real.
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Post by Thursday on Mar 30, 2006 23:21:15 GMT -5
Friends and family came running towards us. I was smothered in hugs meant to console, but they just made me feel worse. Hundreds of sad smiles, pats on the back, a squeeze of my hand. I just wanted to scream.
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Post by Thursday on Mar 30, 2006 23:33:22 GMT -5
Inside the church we were ushered to the front row. I looked at the ground, refusing to acknowlegde the reason we were all here. It was almost painfully silent. You could have heard a pin drop. Casablanca lilies were strewn everywhere. Scattered across the altar, in vases resting on the ground. She would have loved them...
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Post by Thursday on Mar 31, 2006 1:48:26 GMT -5
Before I was born my parents despaired of ever being able to have children. Doctor after doctor had crushed their hopes saying it was a no go. Highly unlikely if not impossible. But my parents weren't shaken. They went to new doctors and explored every possible option. Sure enough their hard work paid off when one afternoon my mom greeted my dad at the front door a pregnancy test in her hand, the bright pink cross that meant positive clearly visible. For the months before I was born they pored over baby books and magazines trying to find a perfect name for their little miracle. They even considered "Miracle" for my middle name( Thank god Grandma talked them out of it) My mom thought the perfect name would come to her when I was born. She believed you couldn't name a person without seeing them first. A name was part of your identity. You needed it like food or water. Sure enough in the glaring lights of the hospital room, the one with the nauseating shade of green on the walls the perfect name had come. "Hope," she said."Her name is Hope." No one could argue it was the perfect name.
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Post by Thursday on Mar 31, 2006 1:53:37 GMT -5
My parents had told me this story time and time again. It was one of my mother's favorites. Which was why it came to mind sitting in the hard, cold seat of the church pew, staring at my mother's casket.
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Post by Thursday on Mar 31, 2006 20:08:34 GMT -5
All through the day I just kept repeating, "It's almost over." to myself. It was my mantra. Something to get me through the day. My two best friends, Madison and Anna were there with me holding my hands and keeping me sane. Throughout the whole ordeal they had been there for me. Through my moodiness and anger. The temper tantrums I threw. The times when I had finally broken down and cried, they were there. Arms open helping me get on my feet again.
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Post by Thursday on Mar 31, 2006 20:12:53 GMT -5
It happened on my sweet-sixteen. I remember the day like it was yesterday. Balloons filled our house and friends kept calling to confirm they would be at my party. I was so excited. I remember looking in that same mirror in my party dress my face filled with color, flushed with excitement. I remember rushing downstairs when I heard the front door open, signaling that my mom had arrived home after her doctor's appointment. I wanted her to be excited with me.
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Post by Thursday on Mar 31, 2006 20:25:43 GMT -5
"Mom! Mom!" I had said excitely. My mom looked up and smiled but something was wrong. Her face was pale and the smile didn't reach her eyes. "There's my birthday girl." Her voice was thin and weary. I knew something was wrong. I grabbed her hand and lead her to the couch. "Spill mom. What's up?" My mother and I were very close. We had our fights. I rebeled like a normal teenager should, but we had always gotten over it. I could tell something was about to change. She sighed. "I'll tell you tommorow sweetie. I don't want to ruin your party." "Mom, the only thing that could ruin my party is worrying about you the whole time. Now tell me what's going on!"
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Post by Thursday on Mar 31, 2006 20:28:35 GMT -5
"We'd better get your father." she said. She sat me and my father down and explained what had happened at her doctor's appointment. I sat there in silence while she told us. Told us how she was dying.
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Post by Thursday on Mar 31, 2006 20:35:30 GMT -5
Breast cancer. Stage four she said. It was fatal. There was nothing the doctors could do. Sure chemo and radiation but it would only buy a few months time and it would just make her sick and miserable. She had six months at best they had told her. She said she didn't want to spend that time fighting her fate. She just accepted it. She accepted that it was her time to go and that God had his reasons for making her go.The door bell went off hundreds of times. My party guests. But we all knew there would be no party. I finally ran outside and screamed for them all to just go away tears streaming down my face. Making black tracks where my makeup had run.
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Post by Thursday on Apr 1, 2006 15:38:51 GMT -5
At the cemetery the weather finally started to fit my mood. Black clouds filled the sky and the low rumblings of thunder sounded in the distance. The wind began to pick up, blowing my hair all round my face. The pastor still droned on, almost shouting to be heard over the roaring of the storm. Raindrops fell onto black jackets, black shoes. I couldn't take it anymore. I just gave in and cried. My tears mixing with raindrops one indistinguishable from the other.
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Post by Thursday on Apr 1, 2006 21:41:10 GMT -5
Chapter 2: 6 months later... "Okay, that was the last box," I yelled happily to my dad. We had just completed our move to a smaller house across town. It was even better because it was the same neighborhood Anna and Madison lived in so I would be able to see them more.
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Post by Thursday on Apr 1, 2006 21:54:01 GMT -5
It was a tiny two story house. Perfect for just dad and me. It had 3 bedrooms, one of which had built in shelves in the walls and a balcony overlooking the street. This was my room. My dad is super afraid of heights so he had no problem giving me the room. He was content with the somewhat smaller room downstairs. Personally I think he gave it up because the downstairs room is closer to the kitchen.
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