The Sky Isn't Blue...

January 27, 2010

A face that had become a faded memory stood glowing on a dark box surrounded by white flowers which I found unfitting. The picture had a frame surrounding it embroidered with gold specks. People passing by giving praise, ran their warm fingers over the outline. Some placed the fallin petals onto her cold hands. I looked over to my father’s stern old face. Tears had swelled up in the banks under his eyes. I knew he loved her. With all of his heart. Leaving me no room… but this didn’t faze me for any sorted reason. I was a child so I hadn’t seen clear love before. I thought this was normal. My small frail hand reached for his, but he stood up immediately with a locked gaze on the black box. His legs carried him to her as tears made him a trail.

I didn’t care to look toward that woman anymore. So I turned my head to the stained glass windows. It is a beautiful day today were the thoughts swimming through my head. I couldn’t hear the crying. The rays of sunlight reaching out to me felt to warm. It gave me more comfort than I had ever received from that woman.

The ceremony ended shortly after. I weaved through black clothes carrying my pink stuffed rabbit by it’s paw, and making my way to my room. But I froze right before I opened the door when my ears heard a familiar sound. Gossip.

“I feel terrible for him. She was so young, and they were deep in love,” a young woman discreetly whispered to another in the bathroom beside my room.

“Yes. That poor couple. They were perfect together…” an older woman whispered back. “But you know it must be tough on that little ten year old girl she left behind. Being motherless is one of the most scariest things to be cursed with.”

“She had a daughter? I never knew. I don’t think she ever talked about a daughter around us…”

“I didn’t either, but I saw a little girl sitting next to her husband at the ceremony.” the older woman sighed shaking her head with pity hung around her eyes. “But I will just say, that little girl has been blessed today.” They both broke out laughing from realizing they were sugar coating their fake feelings. “I would have hated myself if I ever had a mother like that.”

The two women walked out of the large bathroom laughing together to meet my eyes in a shock. I stood there staring at them with my hand still on my doorknob to my room. They exchanged regretful looks, and sighed. I was about to turn away from their boring conversation when the younger woman bent down onto her knees to be at my eye level. Her golden hair was crumbled into a bun held together with an evergreen glassy hair clip. She smiled brightly at me making her pink lip gloss spread. A hand was softly placed on my left shoulder at that moment. My confused eyes looked up to see the older woman had bent over, and was smiling at me too. I tilted my head in confusion. Fake. That’s all they were.

“I’m sorry dear…” the blonde haired woman softly said to me. She turned to the older gray haired woman, and shook her head. Gray strands of hair fell out of her ponytail as she dipped her head with hollow sadness.

“No you’re not.” It was obvious just by looking into their eyes. I had once read that eyes are the doors to one’s soul. But I tweaked that saying to my experiences. Eyes are the doors to one’s lies from what I had learned.

Their eyes were shot wide in a matter of seconds. Both of the women scowled at me with distaste. The warm hand that had been placed on my shoulder went cold. They had taken a step back in confusion from my response, and scoffed.  There is was. The comforting distance that was always put between people and me. To be quite honest, I never understood why people are always expected to forgive after given an apology. Was I supposed to appease everyone? Of course not. They’re not my problem.

“Must be her daughter,” the young woman spat to the other. “She has the same dead eyes.”

She stood up looking down on me with her icy stare. Crossing her arms she shook her head in disappointment with the other woman nodding in agreement.

“That’s ironic,” I muttered to the pink stuffed rabbit I had tucked under my right arm. I turned back to meet their gaze with, what they called, my mom’s dead eyes. “You two must be my mother’s friends,” I said smiling. “Assuming since you all three share a common trait. Betrayal…” my eyes drifted to my feet in boredom.

“How dare you?!” the older gray haired woman snapped at me. I looked up to see their jaws dropped. “What type of child are you to insult your mother like that?!” I could almost see the steam coming from their noses in anger which brought me to a sweet smile that danced across my face.

“But that’s odd...” I directed my attention to my rabbit as if I was speaking to it while adjusting its ears to be perfectly pointed toward the ceiling.

“What’s odd??” the younger woman questioned me with a flare of anger lit up in her eyes. She crossed her arms, and looked down on me with disgust as if she was higher than me.

My gaze drifted to theirs. “Maybe I heard wrong, but were you two not just offending my mother? Being quite honest here, which is something you both should come to terms with, I find myself at the same level of relationship with my mother that you two have with her. So I don’t in all actuality mind hearing your repulsing gossip about that woman. And I do only call it that not because it's about my mother, but just the fact that it's terrible gossip. If you wanted more juice to get out of it, you could toss around the fact that my mother was technically the worst mother there could be to a child. Always going out of the country with my father’s hard earned money. Cheating behind his innocent back just for the rush of excitement. Abandoning her family because she became sick of them. But anyways, back to what I was saying about you two blaming me for offending my blood mother. If it's not okay, then why did you two do it?” With my mother gone, arguments would be getting more bothersome from now on. These people were just too easy setting themselves up like that. If I learned anything from that woman, it was how to trap people in their own words and actions.

Speechless is barely a word to describe them. Every split second I could see their face cry with the anger wanting to put down a word or two in defense, but couldn’t seem to find any flaws in the raw truth I had just spoken. Finally the older woman spoke up. “Listen little girl. We’re adults so we know more than you so don’t act all high and mighty until you experience life.” I snarked at her pitiful remark, and would have carried on to point out that I wasn’t exactly acting above myself because I was only saying what they refused to whisper, but just then I heard heavy familiar footsteps climbing the stairs.

I shrugged while turning back to my door. “I’ll take note of that for the future as to how I should act as an adult,” I mumbled just softly enough for just the two of them to hear with my back turned to them. “Now if you will excuse me.” My hand turned the knob on the door when I decided to get one last sentence. “ Ah! And thank you for comforting me… It felt nice to feel the same attitude my mother always directed toward me.” Continuing to open the door, I slipped into my room, and closed the door quietly leaving the amusing conversation behind me as I heard my father reach the top of the steps.

My ears faintly picked up his rough familiar voice from behind my door. “Have you seen Thea? She disa