Leaving

I ran into my room and shut the door angrily. I turned to face my bed, breathing hard and frustrated.

Why now? I thought to myself.

My mom is a good person. She has good intentions. She just wants me to be happy, for him to be happy.

I have said this to myself for years. Actually, I've been saying this since my father died… and my grandmother.

That thought brought out a frustrated grunt. But I couldn't go back to that now.

I stomped to the other side of my room, where my bed is, and fell to my knees to reach under it to grab a gym bag. It wasn't really mine, - I don't do sports- it was my sisters when she was a cheerleader. Two years ago she got married and moved, leaving some of her stuff behind. So I kept some of it.

I filled the bag with all the clothes I could fit. I thought about what I was doing, so I stuffed all my cash into the bag as well.

When I went back into my closet, I spotted another duffel bag on the floor. I almost smiled, glad I could pack more, until I heard my mom's sobs get louder. If I didn't know the reason behind them, I would have rolled my eyes. But I did know the reason, and it was not something to roll your eyes at.

I grabbed the bag quickly, stuffing in what was left of my clothes, my books, - only ten- my IPod, my makeup, and stuff for my hair. There was still the some space left so I stuffed in my pillow and struggled with the zipper till it closed.

I grabbed my two bags and a giant purse, filled with memories. As I was about to open my door, I looked at myself through the full length mirror that hung on it.

My hair would be pretty on a good day; curly, down to my hips and brown with natural blond highlights from the summer sun. But not today. Today it looked shorter from the crazy knots and impossible frizz.

My eyes would be pretty, too. They're big and a little pointed at the ends, a nice chocolate brown that's not too dark. But now they were wide in shock and crazed almost to the point of madness.

Everything was wrong. Big lips gone almost white with fear; curvy body covered up in a large sweatshirt and pajama pants; tanned skin bleached in the moonlight that streamed through my window. I didn't recognize this girl anymore. She became a stranger. A stranger that might be the one to destroy all happiness for my mother, but save the last of mine.

I couldn't stand to look at her anymore. It would kill all my efforts at keeping from breaking down and crying like my mom. So I snapped myself out of the trance and opened the door.

"Chase!" I heard my mom sob.

I took a deep breathe. There was only one way out of the house. I stopped at the top of the stairs, hesitant. What was I doing? This was the worst time to be hesitant!

"No! Please, Chase! Please!" my mom kept shouting.

Every word, every scream was a stab in my stomach, in my chest.

Maybe I could stay. Find some way to help her. Save her from this…

No. I can't help. There's nothing I can do. I have to leave. Leave before she becomes aware of her surroundings.

My mind kept going back and forth, like an angel on one of my shoulders and a devil on the other. If only I knew which was which!

I sighed, and decided to compromise with both sides.

I dropped my purse on the floor and reached into my pocket for my cell phone. I dialed nine-one-one and the woman who picked up sounded very bored and tired.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

I gulped, knowing if I tell her what happened, it would seem real, causing me to snap out of my daze. But I had to tell her. It was the closest thing to help.

"My brother was… hurt." Yeah, that was a good way around admitting what happened. And it was true, though it was very vague.

The woman's breathing got louder and quicker.

"Oh my god. Okay, um, hold on. I'll get an ambulance right away. What's your address? Where are you?" Her voice was very panicky. What was with this girl? I didn't even tell her the worst. Hell, I didn't let my tone of my voice give it away! It was perfectly even, or at least I thought it was…

I answered all her questions quickly and firmly, being more careful with my voice.

"Don't worry; the ambulance is on its way. Now sweetie, what's your name?"

"Daniela," I responded in the same dead tone as before.

"Okay, well Daniela, I'm going to stay on the phone with you until the ambulance is there, okay?"

Once she said that, I hung up. I knew she was only staying on the phone to comfort me, and I didn't need that. I needed to leave, now.

I put my cell phone back into my pocket and picked up my purse. I waited a little impatient for my mind to go blank. Looking at the wall and seeing nothing, my mothers sobs seeming to get quieter, like turning down the volume on a radio.

Eventually, she became a quiet hum in my ears, and I made my way down the stairs- still a little too slow for my liking.

Soon my mother came into view and my legs started to move faster. My arms long to hold her, to comfort her. My lips and tongue longed to tell her everything's going to be okay and other similar lies.

But I had to ignore her. She was kneeling, staring down in front of her, her freckled face red from crying, nose running, and t-shirt soaked with tears.

And she was right in front of the door.

I realized my mind was starting to focus again and I couldn't let that happen. Not just yet.

I avoided looking her way. I looked straight at the door instead. Thought about my goal, focused on it because now I didn't have time to let my mind go blank again. Paramedics would be here any second.

It seemed like an eternity before I reached the bottom of the stairs, but when I did, I was only about four feet away from the door. I took a couple steps and stopped at about two feet from the door, with my mother about two feet of me to the right.

This was the last time I will see my mother. I will now have to remember her reddish-brown hair knotted and frizzy like mine, her pale blue eyes surrounded by smudged make-up, her glasses covered in tears, and her white skin with millions of freckles, wet in blood.

I looked at her closely one last time and saw pain. The pain of losing a mother, of losing a husband, of losing a son… and, in a matter of hours- maybe even less- the pain of losing a daughter.

The worst part for me is, I'm the one who will cause that extra pain.

I felt my cheeks getting wet, and my eyes getting puffy when I noticed my hand stretching out to her.

I pulled it back and wiped my face with my shoulders. I looked at the door, trying even harder to focus now. I switched my purse to my left arm with the other bags and reached out the two feet to crack open the door.

"I love you," I whispered a little louder than I expected.

Her head shot up and she was silent; it was piercing. I don't know how she heard me over her sobs.

"I love you, too," she said back.

I was shocked she responded, even more so when she started to get up.

Seeing her arms stretching out to me was like a sword going through my stomach and coming out my back.

Quickly I listened to the options in my head. Seventy percent of me said to stay here. Help my mom and let her arms wrap around me. I liked that option a lot. It sounded so inviting and perfect.

My other option is to leave. Think everything through. Three family members dead, each time things get worse. She drinks after work, smokes during work, and eventually quits her job to have more time for drinking. Then there's me trying to get her to stop, but I end up giving up and joining her. With us two left, I'm next to die. That's what I think at least, that's everyone's theory. We all feel that God is out to get my mom. We don't know why yet, but it certainly has seemed that way since my father and grandmother. I can't make her go through this again. It'll be easier if I leave, we'll start to grow apart a bit so when I do die, it won't be so hard on her. I didn't like this option too much, but it was the smarter option. The less selfish option and I knew I had to do it.

My mom was quite close to me now, so very quickly I learned toward her, kissed her on the cheek and leaned back. I could see more pain on her face so I looked away.

I stared outside and suddenly realized where I had to go.

I unwillingly stepped over the body of my little brother and without another word, ran into the moonlit night, leaving my helpless mother behind.