She was walking beside people. She mindlessly went in the direction they were going, not at all caring where she went. She felt...empty, hallow as she walked. It felt like she was missing something. As if she had forgotten something important. The people around her had a purpose, she knew. They were bright and colorful, talking eagerly to the person next to them. Compared to them, she was as dull as a piece of rusted metal. Everyone seemed happy. Except for her. The only emotion she felt while she was in this place was dread.
She trudged forward, wanting to get things over with. She blocked out every person as she walked. The talking immediately ceased. The sounds from before died.
Slowly, they began to fade away. She took that as a sign to speed up. Then, there were sirens. She broke out into a sprint, ignoring the transparent figures she ran through. Soon, red and blue were in sight. The sirens were now louder than eariler. There was something else in the distance. It sounded like a child was crying. She ran until she reached her destination.
There, in front of her, were two cars. Both were broken and busted at the front, looking like they were in an accident. The wailing was coming from the one closer to her left. She went over to it. Through one of the car's broken windows was a child crying in the backseat. It was obviously frightened, but looked like it wasn't injured in the crash. She then headed to the other side of the car. In the driver side was a body. She looked at the body and the child for a moment before she walked away from the scene. She heard the child's small cry for help, but ignored it. Tears were beginning to form as she slowly felt herself waking up.
She glanced back at the two cars. "Goodbye, Grand-mom."
Maryah groaned inaudibly when her alarm went off. She pressed the snooze button and pulled the covers over her head again. She stayed in bed for at least an hour, enjoying the warmth, before she got up. Still in her pajama's, she stuck out of her room and then went downstairs. She knew that her parents did not get up until the afternoon on weekends, and that her older sister slept in. So, in this short period of time, she had the downstairs area all to herself.
She made a bowl of cereal for herself, settled down on the couch, and turned on the T.V. She ate her breakfeast in peace, giggling with chunks of off-branded cereal in her mouth when the characters were doing their usual antics. When she finished, she put her bowl and spoon in the sink, and sat back down on the couch, enjoying the very little time she had for herself.
A new cartoon came on after the old one ended, signaling that she had a few more minutes before the rest of the members in the household awake. With that she stealthily headed upstairs and into her room. Her bed seemed to have welcomed her when she crawled back in. The warmth returned as she closed her eyes.
Then, she heard her sister waking up.
The creaks coming from her sister's bed echoed in the quiet house. Sounds of a door opening and closing, and the little squeaks from the stairs were also heard. However, Maryah stayed in bed, not at all ready to deal with her family. She shifted in her blankets and decided that she would wait for her parents to get up.
Unfortunately for her, her parents awoken several minutes after her sister did. She heard one of them going in the bathroom and the other going downstairs.
She stayed in her bed for a few seconds before reluctantly getting up and went to the bathroom in the hallway, after waiting for the parent who was previously in there, of course. She did the usual stuff people would do in the bathroom in the morning: washed up, brushed her teeth, etc. After she was done with that, she took out a rubberband that was in a container and put her hair in a ponytail, revealing the scar that was over her right eye. It was starting to fade away and was barely noticeable, but it was still there. When she first got it, she was scared. It reminded her about what happened. It still did, but, unlike in the past, she could at least handle looking at her reflection.
Sighing, Maryah turned away from the mirror and headed out of the bathroom to go downstairs. She was only halfway down the steps before the smell of bacon and eggs filled her senses. Heading in the living room, she saw her older sister, Mary-Ann, lying on her stomach on the floor eating some bacon that was on her plate. Her sister just glanced at her before watching T.V. again. Maryah turned into the dining room, that was connected to the living room, and spotted her dad at the table, taking a sip from his coffee.
"Good morning, Dad," greeted Maryah. Her dad smiled at her. He ruffled her hair when she got close enough. "How's my little girl doing this morning?" he asked as chuckled at Maryah trying to fix her hair. "I'm doing great," she said, "however, my hair isn't." "Well, I'm terribly sorry for that, Dee," her dad said while Maryah playfully glared at him. 'Deena' was Maryah's middle name. So, her dad liked to call her 'Dee' sometimes, especially since he knew that she did not like that.
"If you want something to eat, go to the kitchen. Your mom's in there," her dad pointed in the direction of the kitchen. Maryah looked in the direction on the kitchen and shrugged. Since she already ate, she had no need to go in there, but there was no harm in greeting her mom.
Her mom was at the sink when she came in. She was washing the dishes. She was softly humming a song that Maryah didn't recognize. She stealthily snuck behind her mom. Once she was behind her, she latched on her mom's leg. "Gotcha!"
Her mom just laughed at her child's antics. "I guess you did! What ever will i do?!" She then stooped to her daughter's height and cuddled her. Maryah struggled in her mom's arms while she began to give her kisses. "Mom, stop!" she pleaded as she laughed. Her mom pulled back, releasing her daughter from her soapy hands.
After that moment had passed, her mom told her that when she and her dad went off to work, her sister was going to stay at her friends house while she stayed home with Uncle Issac. Maryah didn't like that. Don't get her wrong; she adored her uncle, but she couldn't forget the grief and agony that passed his face at the funeral. But who could blame him? His only sister died, along with his mother that left and his father who got ill when Issac was 17. That was a few months ago. They haven't seen Uncle Issac since. He supposedly moved far away. Nobody could find him. Some, including Maryah, thought that he wanted space. And that's what they gave him.
Now that he was back, Maryah was nervous. Others always told Maryah that the accident wasn't her fault, but she still felt like it was deep inside. She thought that her uncle hated her. She was the one to blame for the accident. So why, when he had moved and isolated himself from everyone, would he come back?
Maryah didn't voice her thoughts, though. She didn't want her mom to be upset with her. So, she just nodded and covered her nervousness with faked excitement. Her mom fell for it and went back to finish the dishes. Maryah turned and headed upstairs to start getting dressed.
She thought back to her uncle as she got dressed. The once cheerful man had gone cold when he was at the funeral. He was especially cold to her. Even at the young age she could still remember her uncle's glare aimed at her as they were listening to people speak about her grand-mom. She wondered if he still hated him for what she did.
"He probably does," she thought. But she would have to wait until he came.
A terrible ending, I know. But, I'm tired. It's almost 1:00am here and I have school so, yeah. And I didn't forget about Hospital Nights, I'm working on it. I might make a Instagram account for updates about my stories/writings if you guys want it, not sure though. This is where I say 'Farewell, fellow readers'. Gn~
-MHG
