AW returns

Hehehehe:) AW has another story to share and I can't wait to hear your comments. I, personally love the story line and am in aw of the way she writes. I know from reading her essays, that I still have a lot to learn. So, please do enjoy:)

The Happiest Day Of My Life

To most people, the happiest day of their lives is the day they tied the knot with their soul mate, or even the birth of their first born, the day they felt alive. I, however am the total antithesis. The happiest day of my life... was the day I died.

It was the night of Christmas eve. The weather was frigid. I had decided to take a drive back to my hometown. This would be the first time in a long time travelling back to that place, filled with poignant memories. As I drove down the familiar musky street, I couldn't help but take a trip down memory lane. Everything about that street seemed to play a significant part in my life at one point or another. I turned my gaze towards a sycamore tree on my right as traffic came to a halt. To most, it was only a tree, but to me, it conjured up a million seemingly insignificant yet profound thoughts...

"Molly, get down from that tree!" my mother called out to me, her tone threatening me. In an act of pure defiance, I pulled myself up onto the next branch. I heard a twig snap below me, but it did not deter me from wanting to reach the top.

"I'm going to count to ten and if you don't get down from that tree, you're not getting dinner!" my mother threatened. Her body was rigid with anger, her eyes on fire. I wish I had known better than to disobey her because the branch I was standing on had suddenly snapped. Too fear stricken to scream, I held my breath, already preparing the arrival of my death. My cheeks were hollowed out with fear and my eyes brimmed with dread.

I was caught off guard when I suddenly felt what seemed like a pair of hands instead of hard, cold concrete. I peeled open one of my eyes, still too afraid to face reality. As I slowly turned my gaze upwards, I realized there could have only been one person who would've caught me in time. True enough, it was my mother.

Hot tears streamed down my pale cheeks and onto her floral T-shirt. I threw my arms around her, not wanting to ever relinquish my grip on her. I think I was getting a little too heavy for her to cradle me in her arms at that age, because the next thing I knew, she gingerly sat down with her back propped up against the      tree. She planted a gentle kiss on my forehead as she brushed away the strands of brown locks from my cheek.

We spent the next few moments in silence as I ensconced myself  in her arms and rested my head upon her shoulder as she stroked my hair. Streaks of vermilion mixed with tinges of burnt auburn and yellow orchre created a shimmering rainbow reflected in the pond across where we were sitting. How I would give anything to relive those moments, anything to just be in my mother's arms once more.

My father was an alcoholic. He would return home late in the night and sometimes, he wouldn't come home at all. Most of the time, I would will for him to not come home. There were times when I just wished he was dead. The nights when he was home were the worst. I would be too devastated and frightened to even take a step out of my room. It was always the same. Dad would yell at mom the minute he stepped into the house. From the way he slurred his words, I knew he was drunk. I also knew he had been drinking when the stench of alcohol hitched a ride on his clothes and entangled itself on his hair and skin and followed him home. Then, I would hear a cacophony of noises, mostly the breaking of glass. I swear I could hear it shatter into pieces as he hit my mom with an empty beer bottle, raining blow after blow on her till she was scarred till the bone.

One day, after I came home from school, I saw a pool of blood on the kitchen floor, and right next to that blotch of fresh, red blood was my mother. I knelt in that pool of blood calling her, screaming for her to wake up. But she never did. Now, thinking back, I think it was a good thing she passed away that day. She didn't have to suffer any longer. She was safe, perhaps in heaven.

I was pulled from my memory by a honk from the car behind. I jolted up in shock and immediately hit the accelerator. I must have hit it too hard because the next thing I knew, my car skidded across the thin layer of ice. Frantically, I tried to stop the car, I tried to get out, but I couldn't. My whole life flashed before my eyes as my car crashed into the sycamore tree. For a moment, everything was a blur, and then it was white...

I felt those same hands, embracing me. Was this really happening? I looked up, with that same fear stricken look on my face. Yes, indeed this was the happiest day of my life.
"Mom?"