My sister ran away on my 11th birthday. Of course, last week, this is what I would 've described was the best present in the world. She was loud and condescending and a pain in the ass; she inhibited the worst stereotypical parts of an older sister. But when I woke up to an empty house with no sign of streamers or balloons or the chatter of people expecting me to come downstairs, I felt a sudden still terror. Something was wrong and everyone knew it hours before I had even regained full consciousness.
My mother was no where to be found.
I went into the kitchen and I was still expecting “Surprise!” and streamers and balloons, but instead I found the stove burning red and bright and the rain pounding against the windows and doors like someone trying to break in. I waited longer than I should have. Maybe hours or days or months or maybe two more birthdays passed, but I sat in the kitchen and counted the left over green jellybeans on the table. The sound of harsh wind came from the side of the house. The back door leading into the kitchen open and revealed my mother. She looked like she just stepped out of the eye of a hurricane and wasn 't too pleased to find out that she made it out alive. I watched her throw her rain coat off and make her way into the kitchen. She moved with a determine haste, pulling the cake out of the oven, frosting it, lighting it with a single candle. She motioned for me to sit next to her. I did, trying to avoid the wet spots she left all over the floor and chairs. “Okay, see?” she said breathlessly, pointing to the cake. “I didn 't forget.” I looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate. I wanted to ask her what happened? But I just nodded and smiled. If she could act like nothing was wrong then so could I. Maybe there was nothing wrong. Maybe they just left to get the balloons and streamers and Liv decided to stop at her boyfriend place or pick up a present for me. She 'd be back. She had to be back. People couldn 't just leave like that, with no warning or closure. That didn 't happen to people like Liv. “Make a wish,” ONE “Why are you here?” “Oh, Karen, you know why I 'm here. I know why I 'm here. The doorman knows why I 'm here.” Karen sighed and reached over to her left for another cigarette. She was trying to quit. “I know why you 're psychically here.” She blows smoke out of the window, but the wind leads it back into the room. “Beyond that, I have no idea.” Karen wears high fashion tailored suits and lives on the west side and drives an eco-friendly car. Sometimes, when she knows she 's not going to get anywhere with me, she tells me about her honor roll son and her lawyer husband and her dying mother. I know so much about them now I feel like I 'm apart of the family. “I told you everything,” I start. She offers me some of her grapes. “I tell you everything, every Friday.” “You tell me the same story every Friday.” “You don 't believe me?” Karen sighs. “Are you calling me a liar?” …show more content…
I take deep breaths like Karen said to, but then I start panicking because it 's not working and I can still feel the sweat pricking on the back of my neck.
I hear Karen 's chair squeak as she gets up. I 'm thinking that she 's left the room to go call my mother and refund her hundred dollars an hour and I can just imagine her saying “I 'm sorry, I can 't help. Your daughter is broken.” and that would really suck because Karen really makes my Fridays 40% better with her tales about the petty women in her book club and her husbands battle with high cholesterol. I see her face at the opposite side of the table. She 's laying down flat on her stomach, staring at me.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” she says.
“Is that reverse
My mother was no where to be found.
I went into the kitchen and I was still expecting “Surprise!” and streamers and balloons, but instead I found the stove burning red and bright and the rain pounding against the windows and doors like someone trying to break in. I waited longer than I should have. Maybe hours or days or months or maybe two more birthdays passed, but I sat in the kitchen and counted the left over green jellybeans on the table. The sound of harsh wind came from the side of the house. The back door leading into the kitchen open and revealed my mother. She looked like she just stepped out of the eye of a hurricane and wasn 't too pleased to find out that she made it out alive. I watched her throw her rain coat off and make her way into the kitchen. She moved with a determine haste, pulling the cake out of the oven, frosting it, lighting it with a single candle. She motioned for me to sit next to her. I did, trying to avoid the wet spots she left all over the floor and chairs. “Okay, see?” she said breathlessly, pointing to the cake. “I didn 't forget.” I looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate. I wanted to ask her what happened? But I just nodded and smiled. If she could act like nothing was wrong then so could I. Maybe there was nothing wrong. Maybe they just left to get the balloons and streamers and Liv decided to stop at her boyfriend place or pick up a present for me. She 'd be back. She had to be back. People couldn 't just leave like that, with no warning or closure. That didn 't happen to people like Liv. “Make a wish,” ONE “Why are you here?” “Oh, Karen, you know why I 'm here. I know why I 'm here. The doorman knows why I 'm here.” Karen sighed and reached over to her left for another cigarette. She was trying to quit. “I know why you 're psychically here.” She blows smoke out of the window, but the wind leads it back into the room. “Beyond that, I have no idea.” Karen wears high fashion tailored suits and lives on the west side and drives an eco-friendly car. Sometimes, when she knows she 's not going to get anywhere with me, she tells me about her honor roll son and her lawyer husband and her dying mother. I know so much about them now I feel like I 'm apart of the family. “I told you everything,” I start. She offers me some of her grapes. “I tell you everything, every Friday.” “You tell me the same story every Friday.” “You don 't believe me?” Karen sighs. “Are you calling me a liar?” …show more content…
I take deep breaths like Karen said to, but then I start panicking because it 's not working and I can still feel the sweat pricking on the back of my neck.
I hear Karen 's chair squeak as she gets up. I 'm thinking that she 's left the room to go call my mother and refund her hundred dollars an hour and I can just imagine her saying “I 'm sorry, I can 't help. Your daughter is broken.” and that would really suck because Karen really makes my Fridays 40% better with her tales about the petty women in her book club and her husbands battle with high cholesterol. I see her face at the opposite side of the table. She 's laying down flat on her stomach, staring at me.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” she says.
“Is that reverse