AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I have to remember it.
He drives off and I run to my mom.
I scream over and over. She’s not moving. I hear sirens in the distance.
“Mom, please stay with me! Help is on the way! Please don’t leave me!” I am crying hysterically, holding my mom. There is no way I am going to let her go.
* * *
My mom is dead. I don’t have anyone. The whole last two weeks are a blur. I don’t want to talk to anyone. My grandma and grandpa came to help with my mom’s funeral and stay with me. I stay in my room. I don’t want to see anyone. My life is over. The first couple days there were cops coming and going. I told them what happened over and over. It’s like they don’t believe me. I gave them the license plate number of the car. It is a permanent image in my head that I can’t forget. The next couple days there was a lady who wanted to talk to me. She told me that she could help me. Help me understand and cope with the loss of my mother. I definitely don’t want to talk to her. They can’t make me talk.
A couple times when the police returned, I would listen to see if they had found the man. Instead I’d hear them talk about a safety deposit box and a will. Then I shut my door quietly and return to curl up on my bed. I have nightmares every night and wake up screaming for my mom. My grandparents don’t know how to help me. They have also lost their daughter. At least they don’t have the whole murder etched in their mind like a constant movie playing over and over. I want this whole thing to go away, to wake up and this have been a horrible nightmare. Unfortunately for me, this nightmare is my life.
Today the lady who wants me to talk came over again. I still don’t want to talk. I don’t want to do anything. Why won’t everyone leave me alone?
“Addison, I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, but you will need to talk to someone soon,” she said, looking at me with soft eyes. The woman is really trying to help me, but I still don’t want to talk. “Do you know an Amy Mason?” she asks.
I nod my head. Amy was my aunt on my dad’s side. I haven’t seen her in years. Why is she asking me that?
“Your mom has a will that named Amy as your legal guardian if something was to happen to her,” she explains. “She is on her way here right now. I want you to know what is going to happen. I don’t know any of her plans other than she is coming here. I’m going to give Amy some names of doctors in Dallas who I know can help you.”
What? Why would she give her names of doctors in Dallas? I don’t understand. Why did my mom want me to go with Aunt Amy instead of my grandparents? I mean, I know they are old, but I haven’t seen Amy in years. I don’t know her that well. The only thing we share is our last name. I have so many questions, but I don’t want to talk to this lady. She has no idea what I’m going through.
“Why?” That’s all I could muster.
“Addison, I wish I had more answers for you. I can’t imagine the tragedy that you have had to live through, but I want you to know that if you ever need anything, you can call me. I’ll leave my card on your dresser.” She turns around and gently places her contact information on my dresser then leaves the room.
After a couple hours I hear voices in the living room again. It’s probably another person bringing us food. Why is everyone bringing us food? It’s so weird. I don’t care as long as they don’t want to talk to me. This time there is a knock on my door.
“Addison,” a sweet voice I’ve heard before but can’t place calls my name. “Addison, can I please come in? It’s Amy.”
No, you cannot come in. No, you cannot take me away. No, I don’t want to talk. If I wanted to talk, that is exactly what I’d say, but instead I stay quiet. The door slowly opens. Well, so much for leaving me alone. Amy walks in and sits on my bed, quietly watching me. She has tears in her eyes.
“Hi, sweetie,” she whispers. She brushes my hair with her hand and doesn’t say another word. We sit there, both crying, for what feels like hours. I finally collapse in her arms. Her warm body holds me, stroking my hair.
“Shh… sweet girl. It’ll be alright,” she whispers in my ear.
I end up falling asleep in her arms as she rocks me back and forth. I can’t explain it, but she makes everything feel like it’s going to be okay. She doesn’t expect me to talk. She comforts me. Like my mom would’ve done.
The next morning I wake up from a dreamless night—the first time since my mom died. Amy isn’t in my room. My stomach growls and I know I need to get something to eat. I walk out to the kitchen and find Amy and my grandparents at the kitchen table. They are in deep discussion and don’t notice me walk in. I wonder if I can slip in, grab something, and get back to my room without anyone seeing me. I try my hardest to walk softly, but then I hear, “I’m taking her back to Dallas in a couple days. I’ve already talked to the school in my city to enroll her.”
I freeze. Reality sets in.
“What did you say?” I scream. “I can’t leave my friends, my house, my school.” My mom. I know she’s gone, but this is our home. I can’t leave.
“Sweetie,” Amy says, standing up.
“No!” I cry out. “Why are you here? Why did my mom leave me to you? I’m sure I can stay here with one of my friends!” I try to reason. I mean, I’m sure someone would take me in. I have a ton of friends, all who will hate seeing me leave.
Amy continues walking toward me and grabs me in her arms, holding me tightly again. “Addison, I don’t know why your mom wanted you to be with me, but I would love to take you home with me. You’ve always been so special to me and the only niece that I have,” she explains. She brushes her fingers through my hair again. I don’t have enough energy to fight with her. My life died two weeks ago anyway. Who cares where I go? My dad left me. My mom left me. Nobody wants me but my aunt.
Two days later we’re packed and driving to Dallas, Texas. I am about to begin my new life.
* * *
“Hi, my name’s Sydney,” the girl who lives across the street from my aunt says to me as we’re unpacking my bags from the car.
I stare at her. I don’t want friends so I walk into the house. Every day Sydney comes to the door asking if I am home. She’s a very persistent girl, but I’m not ready for friends.
