Second term.
I plan on overcoming it this time.Defeating Grief and AP. But it's getting to be too much. I am tired, I want to stay home. Momma just let me stay home. Houses on fire, getting broke into.Paranoia. Annoyance. Babies crying. Longing to leave the house. Too much to take care of. To think about. But Can't cry now, momma's at work, trying to support you, and you don't get to argue cause she's just as broken, maybe more.
Winter break.
You hope after this you'll get better. You barely made it through but you made it. You start to plan for next term. All A's Momma's proud.
On your mark: You fall.
Get set:You bleed.
Go.
Cancer. No not you, your great aunt. But you knew. You knew that day when you heard your grandma say she had been wearing more scarves lately. You knew. They knew. But they didn't want to. You're failing. But you know it doesn't compare to dying. And at this point you're pretty sure dying is better. You're pretty sure. You think about. But then you think about your aunt in the hospital dying. You figure. It's too much for them to bear. you don't do it. But you still think about it. You worry about your grandma's health. You remember you were the barer of bad news last time, and the messenger is always sure to get shot. Bang. But it's in the back this time. Or is it dead in the Jugular. Your eyes are open, you're bleeding heavily. Gasp. you can't catch it. Gasp. It's too far. Gasp. You give up.Gasp.
She's dead.
While you were busy playing dress up. You got in that damned Pageant. You worked hard. You didn't win. You felt good. But you missed work. You were unhappy. And then the big red cherry: You get called to the principle office and get fussed at. PMS is a bitch. And you cry in public. All in the same day. You're pissed. She's dying. Your mom comes home every day with tears in her eyes. You hear her cry and she thinks she's doing a good job with that shitty poker face of hers. But that's a tell. Adults are stupid. The next day, your mom takes out the great motherly wrath out on the people who made her baby cry. If only she could make cancer apologize. If only she could make The guns apologize. If only she could make your father apologize. The principal does though. You still feel shitty, but better. Then you get it. You felt it coming. But the day mirrored her passing. Smooth Predictable. Hard, and mundane, painful, sweaty, gross, everything. But in the end. You are glad to have made it to the end.
The Funeral
You're not going. You decided since you knew she was going to die, you weren't going. You wouldn't regret it. You had gone to too many. And you could still hear the shrieks of pain from the last one. You dream about it sometimes. And with the last dream you woke up in a cold sweat. Every body's here. Some get drunk others just stay busy. but you can't do either. No time. Too much expected. The day comes. And you expect to having time to yourself. to get it through your head. At least finish Chemistry. The dreaded AP. You know you're gonna flunk. But guess what. You get the baby. You get to take care of him. and watch him. You don't mind. you never do. So you do. That's all you can do. Every body's gone. They left. The earthquake now the tsunami. But just please, God, let it just be the after-shock. You still can't tell. At first you heard your grandma keep saying it. "She's gone away from here!" You know what she's trying to do, but you feel her slip away every time she says it. But only she can look in your eyes and tell how much bullshit you are made of. Only you. She tries with everybody else, it doesn't really have the same effect.She knows that even though you haven't cried, you're taking it hard. And for the first time, they try to understand you. Every since you were little, they couldn't really get it. You were odd, that they knew, but they now can sort of understand you.You try harder to talk. The days get brighter. Just yesterday I think I saw a monarch, which was weird. You don't remember them ever being here before. And when is the last time there were flowers in your yard. The grass is wild and full of ants, and even though you want to kill them, you are too lazy to. So you let them be for now, as long as you can.
You Fail. Damn, you fail. But you Hope that this term will be better than the last. This month better than the next. Next Year. You try to tell them but you don't. You try to write it but you don't. But maybe you weren't supposed to until the clouds had settled. And there was nothing but clear skies night and day.You look at the moon tonight and wondered why it was so far away why it wouldn't come near, closer to you. But then you realize, the space between you and the moon, is meant to be filled with the people you want close to you.
Fin
