Dark
shadows splayed across the beige walls. Shadows of “I’m sorry,” “He was a good
man” “It was just his time.” I huddled in the corner gripping the new leather
shoes he had bought me just weeks before.
The funeral
had been like play in four acts. Wake. Service. Cemetery. Reception. They all
said the service was beautiful, the flowers were beautiful, he was in a better
place now and that was beautiful.
I never
answered them I just stared up at them, with wide pulsating eyes. I didn’t know
them but they pretended to know me, introducing themselves, offering their
empty sympathies.
I didn’t
want to be here, I didn’t want to see them, I didn’t want them to see me. I got
up and trudged into the kitchen. It was littered with casseroles, salads,
jellos, and a pound cake that glared at me with one thin slice cut from it. It
mocked me, and I inched closer to it.
I palmed
the plate, carrying it up to my shoulder. I looked at the nice, beige wall and
hurled it at it. The plate smashed and someone screamed. Remnants of the
squashed cake floated down the wall. Someone rushed in and gathered up the
plate in silence. Another came in a swept up the cake in silence. I hated the
silence even more than I hated the shadows’ empty sympathies.
I wanted
the silence to go away. I turned on the radio over the sink and switched it to
high. An old country western song blared loudly echoing off those beige walls.
No one said a thing, no one switched it off; they just let it play.
The shadows
left one by one, leaving the house empty except for her. She finally switched
the radio off as another song started. She was calm and I hated her for it. I
took my nice leather shoes and hurled them at the wall near the phone. The shoe
polish left black streaks on the walls. She remained calm. She started to wash
the dishes, ignoring me.
I suddenly
burst out, breaking the silence, “Why are you so calm?!”
There was
no answer.
“Answer
me!”
There was
no answer.
“Answer me
dammit!”
There was
still no answer.
I screamed
out loud and ran upstairs to my room. I plopped down on my bed and stared up at
the blank, beige ceiling, tears now burning my eyes. They poured down the sides
of my face following the creases like a flowing river. I lay there and cried. I
never stopped.
