It all started the day my mother died. I was twelve. Needless to say it hit me like a ton of bricks. She died in the hospital, peacefully. We rear-ended another guy with our truck and she crashed through the window. The air bag didnt deploy. She broke quite a few bones. She was in a coma for a few weeks. Dad knew she wasnt going to make it, but I didnt listen. It still shocked me. When she finally passed, I felt numb. When we were at the funeral, and I gazed at her lifeless form inside her coffin, I was numb. After we were going home, I was numb. I couldnt feel anything. I was just...hollow. I had never been a deeply religious person, unlike most people in my town. I also didnt care much for the Christian faith, again, unlike most of my town. I had always been agnostic. I didnt know what exactly happened. But I at least hoped that if there was some kind of otherworldly being, that she wouldve gone to the more heavenly version of the afterlife. I got my blonde hair from her. She was one of those mice-like people that would cook dinner every night and tuck you in regardless of your age. She was a preschool teacher. I guess she just loved kids. She always treated me like an angel. And I actually kind of liked being treated like a toddler. She offered me snacks a lot, bought me all the new Legend of Zelda games, and admittedly spoiled me. It was probably because I was an only child. There was this thing I would do when I was stressed or mad. I would light matches and set leaves or paper on fire. I cant remember what it was called. Pyromania or something along those lines. After my mother passed, I started doing that a lot more often. I would go out in the fields and start little fires in a circle of rocks and dirt, then smash them out with my work boots. It always made me feel a bit better. Just to see fire. Just to start one. Then my dad. Typical kind of country bumpkin. Liked to go fishing and hiking, just enjoyed the outdoors altogether. But I noticed that even he was affected pretty harshly by it. He would just sit on the couch, getting himself drunk, or just stare at the framed picture of the three of us hanging on the wall. About a week afterward, I started having this recurring nightmare. I would be playing The Legend or Zelda, Majoras Mask, when suddenly, I would find myself in an empty, black place. I would see my mother in the distance, and I would start running toward her. No matter how far I ran, I never got closer. I would look up and see the moon from the game in the sky. It would be smiling at me, and then it would move its lips to speak, but no words ever came out. Suddenly, it would come barreling down toward me. Then I would wake up, sweating. Afterward I would usually go in the bathroom with a notepad, and burn a few wads of paper in the bathroom sink. A couple weeks after she passed, I woke up from the same dream one night. Instead of going to the bathroom, though, I followed the noises from the living room. It was the TV, my dad sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand. Hey Benjamin, Benny my boy, wouldja come ovr here a sec? he said. I walked to him, and he picked me up and sat me on his lap, as if I were 8 again. Benny..boy, ya know what we should do? he asked. Do ya? No dad. I answered plainly. We should go-a fishin tomorrah..help us get er minds of momma passin away..that sound good? I nodded my head. I was still a bit too tired to fully comprehend the conversation, but I got the gist of it. I didnt really feel like going back to my room afterward. Not alone, at least. So I stayed with him. I sat next to him, with my head against his shoulder. He slung an arm around me, giving me a drunken yet genuine smile. Being in his presence was so comforting. Soon the warm embrace of sleep took over. I slept peacefully that night. The next day we got up a little early and put on some old hand-me-downs then headed out to the river nearby. We each carried fishing poles, while he carried the box filled with lures and the worms. We fished and talked a while. My dad wasnt really that knowledgeable when it came to video games, but he at least tried to keep up when I talked about my Zelda games. Once it started to get dark, he let us- er, me rather, build a fire. I kept poking in it with a stick, trying to persuade the flames to dance higher. Dont poke around in that fire, Benny Boy, youre gonna burn yourself one of these days. I rolled my eyes a bit, but still walked back over to where he was sitting. He was still fishing, perched on a rock. I looked down into the greenish water and smiled. I grabbed a nearby rock, almost the size of my head, and stuffed it in my jacket, before plunging into the water. I immediately pushed all the air from my lungs. I saw my dad reacting. I had to work fast. I opened my mouth and sharply inhaled the water. My body jerked and spasmed at the action, letting me know it was working. I propelled ny arms, trying to force myself further down into the water. My body jerked and lurched, and I was forced to ignore every impulse in my being to not scramble to the surface. I started coughing underwater, making it worse, and better for me. My dad plunged into the water and reached to grab me. I smiled to myself as I felt the warm darkness wash over me. He was already too late.
Posted on: Mon, 01 Dec 2014 08:19:26 +0000
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