She's not an Angel [two]

Charlie Evander – 19991

“Mommy, why is the sky blue?” “Mommy, why doesn’t everyone look the same?” “Where do baby’s come from?”2

I have always asked questions and my mother never really knew the answers. She would stare at me for a few moments, obviously irritated but she could never bring herself to yell at me. Her features would soften; she’d smile softly and give me an answer I didn’t want. 3

“Mommy, where’s daddy?”4

Mommy looked up from her book. “He’s dead.” I looked down into my bowl of soggy oatmeal. She’d replied so quickly, as if she’d been practicing that line for years. It was an unexpected displeasure. She was lying and mommy never lied like this. 5

“Mommy…I want to meet daddy.” 6

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look up from her book this time. I know she isn’t reading though. Her eyes don’t move. They gloss over with a fresh coat of tears. I don’t ask what’s wrong. I don’t even think about how she’s feeling. I just want to know where daddy is.7

“Mommy, where’s daddy? I want to meet daddy? Why are you lying to me, mommy? Every one at school has a daddy. How come I never met him?” 8

“SHUT UP!” 9

Mommy is shaking now and so am I. She had never, before now, screamed at me. There is a sinking feeling in my stomach and I can feel the tears threatening to release themselves. Mommy doesn’t like it when I cry so I hold them in. She’s already upset because of me. I don’t want her to yell at me again.10

“Mommy…” I whimper. 11

Roughly, she stands up and walks over to me, dropping her book on the table. Mommy yanks me up, so hard I scream out in pain. She ignores me and drags me up the stairs to my room. The door is open so, she throws me in, harder then even she expected. 12

When I wake up, I’m in my room but I’m not really there. I see mommy. She’s crying. I see me too, lying next to my small bed. I’m not moving. 13

I walk over to me and look at my face. Dry blood is all over it and on the carpet underneath me. There’s a huge gash in my head, right above all the blood. I want the cry but the tears don’t come. 14

And then I remember, I once asked mommy what death was and she replied, “It’s when you can’t cry anymore.”