My Mother Knew Chapter 1: Esme Cullen
I drove home slowly that day in my white Acura, taking the longest route I knew. Although I blared the radio as loud as it would go without annoying the other drivers on the road, a million thoughts traveled through my head. These thoughts were of my life so far to this day and what the rest of my life looks like from here.
Actually, from here...my life looks like it has hit a brick wall. I don't exactly know where I'm going from here. You see, I feel this way because I am driving home from a funeral...my father's funeral.
As that thought flowed back into my mind, the waterworks started back up again.
It's simple—I'm sixteen years old, and I am now an orphan.
Have you ever heard of "postpartum depression?" Well, that is what my mom suffered from. It's a type of depression that sometimes affects women a few days or even weeks after they give birth to their beloved baby. Usually, it is recoverable...but in my mom's case, it was not. After suffering through six and a half weeks of postpartum depression, my mother purposefully killed herself through alcohol poisoning. We don't fully know if what she did was on purpose or not, but my dad thought that that might have been the case.
Then just four days ago, last Friday, my dad was in a car accident. But, it's not what you think. He didn't fall asleep at the wheel nor was he drunk. The driver who hit him was drunk.
I pulled into my driveway and pressed the button to open the garage door. After I slowly pulled into the garage and turned off the engine, I turned my head to the left. There, was the empty space where my dad's car should have been. If he was alive. If he wasn't hit. If that guy wasn't drunk.
There are a million ifs that I could go through, but IF I did go through all of them, then by the time I finish my life would be half over.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and then opened my eyes after a few seconds, hoping that my dad's car would be there. This meaning that he was home from and everything would go back to normal. But when I finally opened my eyes and saw the empty space tears flooded my eyes as I got out of the car and saw a car pull into the driveway. It was my Aunt Elizabeth. She was staying with me this week.
"Hey sweetie, how you doing?" my mom's sister asked in her usual comforting tone as she came up to me and gave me a hug.
"Oh Bridget, you don't have to put on a happy face for anyone. You know that, don't you?" We walked inside the house and plopped down on the couch in the living room and then I burst into tears, Aunt Elizabeth trying to comfort me.
Bridget—my first name—was also my mother's name. There is a story behind it. My dad told me that my mom was in labor and was trying to distract herself by picking out a name. She looked down at her hospital bracelet, and vwalla, my name became Bridget.
"I'm gonna go change out of these clothes," I said while standing up and straightening my slim, black dress—a dress that I will probably never wear again, considering the fact of the bad memories that cling to the black fabric.
"Do you want me to drive you to the bank?" Aunt Elizabeth asked.
"No, it's okay, I can do it, but please come with me."
"All right, I'll go move my car out of the driveway so you can get out." You see, my aunt is staying with me until I find out whom my parents put in their will to get me...gosh. That makes me sound like a piece of furniture or something. Once I find out who my new guardians will be, I guess I have to move in with them. Which isn't fair because I don't want to leave home. It holds some of the last memories I have of my mom and dad. And yeah, grand it, I never really knew my mom, but both of them grew up here in Kansas City. If I leave KC, am I leaving behind my parents? Something to consider.
I changed from wearing my simple, black dress into dark wash jeans, a fitting turquoise top with a ruffly-ish scoop neck, and to top it all off a cream vintage jacket. And on my wrist I was wearing my white gold charm bracelet given to me by my best friend Ashlee for our ten-year anniversary (we met in Kindergarten). After changing I got back into my car and began to drive to the bank. Aunt Elizabeth was in the passenger seat of my car—I asked her to come with me for...well...support. Plus, since I am considered a minor I needed an adult to sign the papers or something or other.
Once there, I parked in a parking spot right in front of the door, and no I am not handicapped, and no the space was not a handicap. I stopped the engine and pulled my key out of the ignition. I sighed and looked over to my aunt. "Do you know who was in my father's will?" I asked, referring to my new guardian.
"Actually," my mom's sister began. "If I remember correctly, your dad did not put anyone under that category in his will. Your mom, on the other hand, yes she did, but I do not know who exactly."
"Okay." I unlocked the car doors, and we both got out the car. "Let's get this over with then."
We walked into the back where we sat down with an official-looking-agent-person or whatever you prefer to call them. After receiving the news that I basically inherited all of my mother and father's money, I was a littler overwhelmed. I actually kinda forgot about the who's-my-new-guardian-thing. I mean, I just found out that my parents had MONEY, man, did they have money. If I calculated it correctly in my head, I have enough money to finish high school, attend a decent (actually, more than decent) college, and still have a ton of money left over for extra stuff and maybe even a small house or apartment or something. I was basically set for life. Maybe even a good retirement plan....what's that thing called? A 401K?
Uhh, yeah. Okay.
"And who will be her new guardian?" Aunt Elizabeth asked, hoping she would assume custody of me. God, I hope not...I mean I love her and all but she's just a little...wacko?
"Ahh, yes," the lady said while turning the page of my mother's will. Then she looked at me and lowered the glasses down the bridge of her nose. "Do you know of a Mrs. Esme Cullen?"