I think the worst part is that I knew it would happen. When my dad sat us all down, he had this guarded look on his face. He cracked a smile, but it was fake, tight. Forced. I knew that smile all too well. It meant bad news was about to hit.
And hit me it did. Right in the fucking face.
My dad started saying something; I don't remember what. All I remember is my mind slowly blocking off all the exits to my senses. My sense of sight--gone. My sisters disappeared, the tv, the black and white rug, my dad slowly going through the motions. My sense of smell--whoosh. Out the door, replaced by bland, flat, nothingness. My sense of touch--nonexistent. I could've been sitting on a shitty stone chair instead of a soft, suede couch for all I knew. My sense of taste--forgotten. My mouth was as dry as fucking Tempe, Arizona.
Unfortunately, my sense of hearing did not get blocked off soon enough.
"...she passed away," he was saying.
He was taking the easy way out. The nicer way. Passed away? No. You don't call that passing away. There's another, much harsher, word for that.
But even so, that was all it took.
My throat twisted into shapes it should not have been able to. My stomach dropped 300 miles down. My jaw clenched reflexively, fighting against the waterworks that were sure to come.
I was able to keep them at bay for about ten seconds. And when they finally reared their ugly faces, I felt stupid for a moment. It was dead silent. No one was breathing. It was just me and my tears.
Did I forget to mention that I have an awful disease that makes me hiccup like a choking turkey? Yeah, it's that bad. So, I start hiccuping and curling into a little ball, because that's what I do best. Curl in on myself and run away from anything difficult.
I swear I kept my eyes closed for about ten minutes. And no one moved a muscle. They just sat there, like those hideous, stupid dolls my sister used to collect when she was five. I hated those fucking dolls. They always stared at me. Kind of like what everyone was doing at that moment--staring at the little girl bawling her eyes out.
Whatever. Everything dies, right?
Yeah....So why do I still feel like shit?
I look forward to fooling everyone with my fake smiles tomorrow.
And hit me it did. Right in the fucking face.
My dad started saying something; I don't remember what. All I remember is my mind slowly blocking off all the exits to my senses. My sense of sight--gone. My sisters disappeared, the tv, the black and white rug, my dad slowly going through the motions. My sense of smell--whoosh. Out the door, replaced by bland, flat, nothingness. My sense of touch--nonexistent. I could've been sitting on a shitty stone chair instead of a soft, suede couch for all I knew. My sense of taste--forgotten. My mouth was as dry as fucking Tempe, Arizona.
Unfortunately, my sense of hearing did not get blocked off soon enough.
"...she passed away," he was saying.
He was taking the easy way out. The nicer way. Passed away? No. You don't call that passing away. There's another, much harsher, word for that.
But even so, that was all it took.
My throat twisted into shapes it should not have been able to. My stomach dropped 300 miles down. My jaw clenched reflexively, fighting against the waterworks that were sure to come.
I was able to keep them at bay for about ten seconds. And when they finally reared their ugly faces, I felt stupid for a moment. It was dead silent. No one was breathing. It was just me and my tears.
Did I forget to mention that I have an awful disease that makes me hiccup like a choking turkey? Yeah, it's that bad. So, I start hiccuping and curling into a little ball, because that's what I do best. Curl in on myself and run away from anything difficult.
I swear I kept my eyes closed for about ten minutes. And no one moved a muscle. They just sat there, like those hideous, stupid dolls my sister used to collect when she was five. I hated those fucking dolls. They always stared at me. Kind of like what everyone was doing at that moment--staring at the little girl bawling her eyes out.
Whatever. Everything dies, right?
Yeah....So why do I still feel like shit?
I look forward to fooling everyone with my fake smiles tomorrow.
