Call to Maturity

She woke up that summer day the same as always- eager to go on an adventure, get out and experience something new. Something new for sure, almost an understatement. Rushing to get into her clothes, she ran downstairs with a jubilant smile on her face. She was sure they were going to take her out somewhere- perhaps into the country. She was a small eight year old girl, but oh how she loved the country. She looked both ways around the deserted room, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Mommy..?"

She whispered, a little frightened for her routine had not changed for almost two years. Usually her mother was dressed, waiting and ready to go. Today she was nowhere. She searched all the rooms, including the bedroom where there was not a soul to be found. She began to get scared and tears welled up in her eyes. She then heard someone crying, first softly than sobbing. She realized it wasn't her. Outside on the back porch, she saw her mother hunched over, tears flooding onto the ground. Standing in the doorway she watched for several seconds unnoticed.

Lifting her head the woman jumped, and immediately tried to repress her emotions. She wiped under her eyes and flashed a somber smile. She scooted over on the glider, and patted it. Sitting down next to her mother the small child hugged her.

"What's the matter mommy?"

The woman's hazel eyes were surrounded by red ones filled with tears. She patted the girls head, stroking her crown of blonde curls softly. After a few minutes of silence she turned full, staring down at her precious pride and joy.

"Your daddy is very sick hun.."

She tried to sound confident and like it was something small- as if it would be alright. But it wouldn't. It was kidney failure, and her father would need a transplant and meanwhile reside on dialysis.

The girl tilted her head like a confused puppy dog, unable to process what she meant. Her daddy was a big man, strong like an ox. He would often lift her into the air on one hand, swing her around to her amusement. He was her hero and he could not fail. She loved him with all that she had, he was her superhero.

The next few days would be hard ones. She held her mothers hand tightly as they entered the silent hospital, through the sliding doors. Many times she would love to have hopped on the sensors, opening and shutting them. But today she was dragged forward, and walked down a small white hallway; with the feeling of an inmate heading towards his death.

They turned right into a room of many weird looking machines, people laying with eyes closed on beds. Then she spotted daddy. Breaking lose she bolted over to his side, and smiled.

"Daddy!" The bed was too high up for her to hug him so she merely beamed up at him. But her smile slowly faded. He did not answer her. He was sleeping, but his breathing so soft she thought he was dead. She looked up towards her mother, who was now apathetic, trying to remain strong for her child. Then she spotted it. A large sharp needle connected into his arm, long tubes of crimson blood twirling to a large machine with many buttons. Puzzled but now aware something was wrong she started to cry. Like a young child she cried loudly, wailing and rubbing her eyes.

This would be repeated for many days. And then her mother stopped taking her to see him altogether. Her once hero had vanished, and eventually out of sight, out of mind. She grew up without her father, for he was working while on dialysis. Thus he spent four hours a day, his blood drained and cleaned, then almost five hours working, four of five days out of every weak. When he returned, it was almost eleven at night. And on weekends when he had a day or two to relax, he was exhausted and grouchy. Talking to him meant being scolded terribly. She shyed away from her once papa bear.

So this little child grew, to become almost a teenager. She was twelve and anxiously anticipating her journey into becoming a young adult. It was a few days before her birthday, and to celebrate early when her father could join, they went out to Pinocchio's restuarant. She loved this place, not only because Pinocchio was her favorite disney fairy tale, but because it was family oriented. Even her father was smiling. For this short moment, they seemed like a normal family. Her fathers cellphone buzzed but because they were in the middle of singing happy birthday for her, the whole restuarant included, he shut it off without second glimpse. So we ate, talked, laughed and smiled.

Returning home, she ran upstairs to her bedroom, tired and ready to go to bed. A scream was heard from downstairs and she jumped up, hairs raising on the back her neck. It was her mother. Her mother had been listening to the messages to see if anyone had called. And they did, an hour ago. It was the hospital, they had a match for a kidney. They said to rush down immediately for a chance. But it was too late. They knew it was but they went down anyways. So instead, the young girl spent her birthday celebration laying down across two hard white chairs, trying to sleep.

There was another man ahead of her daddy to get the kidney, but he failed the match. Her daddy took the necessary bloodtests. She would know in the next day. Her father stayed overnight. They received a call; it was a match. And the surgery would take place that night. Her mother broke down like she had the first day; sobbing uncontrollably. The girl was confused; why was her mother crying?

"Happy tears...your father is saved. This surgery is dangerous..and your father wants to make sure you know he loves you, no matter what happens."

Then she let her body free by falling to the ground sobbing. The little girl would have to stay at her mother's friend's house for the night, the woman going to see her husband.

The surgery took a few hours, but he was in recovery by morning, completely fine. Or so everyone thought at first. After coming home, he would be required to take steroids- Anti-rejection meds to make the body accept the kidney. The problem was this made him more moody than before. It was almost unbearable. Countless nights the girl laid awake, hearing her mother and father screaming at eachother, threatening divorce and fighting over her. She hated herself; it was her fault. She wondered if she should have been born. Her mother tested this.

They had been having a family fued- more common now where all three were pitt against each other. She screamed how she hated her mother- Her mother replied, "I hate you to and I hope you burn in hell you ungrateful *bunny*!"

That was the first time her mother had ever said anything of that calibur to her. She shuddered and stared at her with repressed tears, cowering. She ran off to sulk in her room, screaming into her pillow.

She was fifteen now, and merely accepted this as a way of life. She was used to it, actually. To see her mother and father get along made her sick to her stomach. It was sad how this changed her outlooks on love. There was a lot of strain on everyone in the family. After her father recovered from a very dangerous attack on his health- her mother began to suffer.

She had a heartattack. Rushed off in a blaring ambulance with lights flashing, the girl forgot all the times she screamed at her mom, told her she hated her, all that was gone. She loved her mother deeply. She sobbed, until she couldn't breath and her eyes and head throbbed with pain. Her mother had two stents placed into her heart. She survived; luckily.

Hospitals and physical health problems were the norm. This young girl had a short childhood, a nice one, but that wasn't the problem. She grew up with that warning label stamped onto her parents: At anytime may self-destruct. They are ticking timebombs. There's not a day that goes through her mind wondering what would life have been like if neither had been sick. She wondered if they would be a happy family. And she wondered, if she would have been different herself. She wondered the most- If she would end up like them, sick and fighting a once loved one, ruining her own child's childhood with anger, and sadness.