Solo
Here I Go Again
Word Count: 470 Words.
Here I Go Again
Word Count: 470 Words.
Tissues lay piled about the small bedroom. The consistent sound of whimpering overpowered the volume of the laptop's already weak speakers.
"Do you know her?" "No."
Bright green eyes reddened and brimmed with tears. She hugged her knees and large bat symbol pillow, giving in and sobbing into the fabric. Even though she'd watched the scene a hundred times or more, it still was like a swift jab in the gut every time she saw it.
"Do you know her?" "No."
Even though it hurt so much to watch, she couldn't quite pull her cursor from the movie's timeline. Would the love of her life ever end up in a situation where they wouldn't recognize her? It'd be too horrible to bear!
"Do you know-"
"Sage! Dinner!"
The girl jumped at the loud call, tossing the pillow away. Pausing for a moment to collect herself, Sage wiped her wet cheeks and eyes, sniffing inward to prevent unpleasant drainage. She jumped up and called out, "Yes, ma'am!"
Down the hall and into the kitchen, to set the places she went. She opened a cabinet and grabbed three, no - two plates. Old habits die hard.
Die. That's exactly what happened, hadn't it? It wasn't supposed to have happened to him. Sometimes in life, you feel invincible, like horrible things can't happen. Then a day like October 10, 2013 comes along to turn your world upside down. None of them had suspected a thing, just dehydration. It happened so fast that-
"Hello! Earth to Sage!" Her mother's voice had the perfect frequency to match fingernails on chalkboard, but she just knew when her daughter was thinking about him.
No words were exchanged between the two for quite some time. Only a long embrace between a mother, daughter, and china.
"We'll be okay. We've still got each other." Nails on the chalkboard. Maybe it wasn't her voice but the message that drove her insane.
'But what about Dad? We bounced all over the country for his stupid duty, hanging on the thought of making all of that time up and more once he retired. We had a little over a year. How are we going to be okay?' Sage sighed, relieving her tension. "You're right. I just wish it was easier."
A kiss on the forehead. "I know, baby. I do, too." A tight squeeze and double pat on the back. ". . . The lasagna!" And away her mother skedaddled to the oven.
The women had shared several moments like this in the past several months, strengthening and uplifting the other in their lowest moments. Their bond seemed the only good thing to come out of the situation. The girl with turquoise hair smiled and placed the two dishes on the table. Her mother was right: they were going to be okay.
