I tried to fight the overwhelming need to sleep. I didn’t remember this happening before. The pounding was becoming all I could take. When I reached up to my ears and started to scream from the pain, I blacked out.
* * *
Where am I? I’m on the floor. There’s a drool spot just below my mouth. Wiping my cheek, I blinked the focus back into my eyes. Spike was lying next to me. He was whimpering. Something had happened, had I fainted? The brown shaggy carpet of the spare room’s floor came into focus. Then the red walls and all the pictures of flowers started registering in my mind. They were still a bit fuzzy. Something was missing. I felt around the floor and found my glasses.
Checking around me, there had to be some sort of a sign as to why I’d faint. Propping myself up on my elbows, I looked up. I was in front of my dark open closet. It startled me. Before I knew it I was sitting upright. The head rush it caused made me dizzy and feel faint again. Deep breaths, it’ll be okay.
“What happened?” I asked Spike.
He whimpered louder and scooted closer. My head started hurting again once the blood went back to where it belonged. I had to have hit it. What could I have hit it on? What was I even doing in here? The last thing I remembered was getting everything ready for the trip to the park tomorrow morning. Maybe I had been looking for Spike's harness? We hadn’t used it in a long time. Mom could have stored it in here. I had to have been searching for it, yes, that makes sense.
I noticed the clock was past eight o’clock. It only confirmed my thoughts. I slowly stood up and brushed my knees. I was already ready for bed. I remembered picking out my outfit for tomorrow and trying it on. I was such a nerd. We needed this play time to go perfectly tomorrow. I'd better finish looking for his harness.
Staring at the clutter in front of me, I was a bit skeptical. Things needed to get organized first if I was going to find anything like that. Maybe that’s what I had been doing; I had been organizing the mess and something heavy had fallen. My head was definitely throbbing as if something had landed on it rather than my falling and hitting it. I guess I wouldn’t really know the difference. But fainting was just so farfetched. I had never fainted.
I reached in and pulled the chain for the light. If something fell it would be obvious. I started moving all the clothes and boxes to look for anything heavy that was out of place. My knees popped when I bent down to check the floor. I flinched. Positioning myself more on my thighs, I started picking through things, but I couldn’t find anything that would have hit me. Frustrated, I sat back up. Think Mira, think. Could something else really have happened? What had I eaten today? Had I eaten today? I didn’t remember. Could I have just passed out from not having any sugar in my system? I’m not diabetic, but things happen. Something had happened.
I rubbed my head and looked at Spike. He turned his head sideways at me the way dogs do, all cute like, and then went to the door. That was a smart idea. I clearly wasn’t going to figure anything out at the moment. I walked out of the room, slowly, and decided I should check the house just in case. Everything was closed and locked. Nothing was making much sense.
I could feel myself getting frustrated. I needed to lie down. I threw myself over the loveseat and rested my forearm over my eyes. I was feeling very weak. It was that kind of fatigue that didn’t happen for no reason. Well I mean, recovering from the loss of a parent would leave someone weak for days, but it has been a month. I’d been steadily packing and had never felt like this. I missed her. My heart ached and I felt tears beckon just behind my tear ducts. My body went numb. I needed a distraction.
I propped my feet on the edge of the arm of the couch and crossed my ankles. I was so tall that it was actually more like my calves that hung over. It cut off the circulation in my legs. Slowly a tingling sensation started up them. I didn’t mind; the tingling was a welcomed feeling with all this numbness. It reminded me that I had blood flow more than my beating heart did.
My heart, I missed her. I needed a better distraction. No, I needed to give in. Think about her Mira, it’s okay. Just think about her.
I stared up into the ceiling and let my thoughts carry me to her. She was in the room with me. I could smell her clothes and see her smile. It was that smile she always had when I stumbled out of my room in the morning smacking my lips because of the breakfast she had cooked. She had been so good to me. She had been so good to everyone. She didn’t deserve this.
I squeezed my eyes shut and forced my head to lose focus. Eventually I won and I managed to space out, staring at the dots on the ceiling. Images swirled and danced in my dizziness that made less than zero sense. I was dreaming with my eyes open. I hated this life that I had. There was no point to it. I could lay here forever and no one would miss me. The bank would get angry knowing I hadn’t left yet, but they’d also be more than happy to just trash all of our belongings. I hated myself. I threw my hands over my face and screamed out. I heard a squeak from the other side of the couch. I froze. Carefully, I sat up and looked over towards the noise.
“Oh, my gosh!” I shrieked.
Wilson, our ferret, was sitting on the back of the couch staring at me. What was with the animals today?
“Wilson!” I sighed. “How’d you get out?”
The ferret squeaked some more and climbed down onto my lap. I picked him up and placed him on my shoulder, then stood up as slowly as possible. I wanted to avoid another head rush. That blackout earlier still had my nerves on edge.
A smell of eggs and rot answered my question almost instantly when I approached his cage. It was no wonder he had escaped. The smell was completely atrocious. I couldn’t imagine staying in a place that smelled like that. I imagined it’d be like a seagull living in a dump. Wait, no, seagulls enjoy that. Then it would be like a human living in a dump. My body shook in repulsion. I plugged my nose and took a step back. I couldn’t put him back in there. I looked around to see if the coast was clear, but Spike was standing right behind me. He’d go after Wilson in a heartbeat. I had to think of a way to give Wilson a head start.
Looking around the room I noticed a chew toy under the corner desk. I picked it up and chucked it over the couch. Spike lunged after it. Taking the opportunity, I set Wilson down and rushed him towards the kitchen. When I stood back up, Spike was standing at the edge of the couch with the chew toy in his mouth. He was just watching Wilson take off. I looked at Spike, then looked at Wilson, then looked at Spike again. He dropped his toy then skidded off after him. It was quite the comedic display.
I stood there for a few moments, watching the foyer. I knew Spike would never hurt him, but that first run always gave me a scare. Finally, Wilson scampered out and dashed into the kitchen. His little claws slid on the tile, but he still kept his lead. A few seconds later and Spike came careening around the corner. He slid and slammed into the bar. I tried not to laugh; the poor dog was getting his butt kicked by a weasel. I mean, Wilson usually always won anyways, but it never ceased to entertain me.
Shaking my head, I walked over to the closet just inside our foyer. Wilson came running by again and I threw the door open. Spike managed to stop before hitting it. He stuck his head around the gap to look at me. Then he squeezed his giant body through and carried on.
“Don’t mind me; I’m just getting him new sod.” I said to myself.
Wilson hadn’t passed me again. I smiled. That meant he had made it behind the couch in our formal living room. He loved it on the windowsill there. Spike was now the one tortured due to the fact his big, giant head couldn’t fit in the gap between the couch and wall. It was only fair.
Collecting all that I needed, I kicked the door closed and set the supplies over by the sliding glass door. It was dark outside. I flipped the light switch for the back porch and opened the blinds. Unlocking everything, I got the door open and then walked back over for the cage. Before I bent over to pick it up, I made sure to take a deep breath.
I walked to the farthest corner that was still lit up and dropped th
e cage. With another quick deep breath, I tipped the cage over and shook it. Everything fell out, including his food and water bowl. After a few more good shakes I picked the bowls back up and shook them off at the water’s edge. Realizing I was no longer in smelling distance, oxygen filled my lungs again. Now I just had the stench of duck in my nostrils. Somehow that wasn’t as bad as his cage had been. I was the worst pet owner.
I shot around what I heard a click by the door. Why was I so on edge? Spike was sitting in the open doorway. He was glaring at me. I wonder, how long had he been watching me? The look on his face was that of a child who was told they couldn’t have desert. He knew I let Wilson get away. He was going to just have to deal with it. I patted his head when I walked by him and then set the cage where it belonged.
Placing the new sod in, it made all the difference. The smell was almost like Christmas. As I filled up his water and food, I felt a bit of sorrow. I was going to miss him. It was a shame the apartment complex only allowed one pet. I still didn’t understand how a ferret counted as a cat or dog, but Wilson was going to a great home. The family had kids and they’d play with him much more nicely than Spike ever did. He deserved this.
I needed to get back to what I was doing. I had to finish packing so I could leave this place and all its sorrow filled memories. I barely had two days left and I was certain the bank wasn’t going to suddenly be nice and give me more time. The boxes were piled up in the garage. I didn’t even feel like turning the light on.
Trudging back into the house with my arms full of boxes, I dropped them in the living room. Spike jumped. I couldn’t believe it, behind him were more boxes. What had I been I packing in here? Then I remembered; I had been wrapping the snow globes. Rida had collected them. Maybe that’s why I was in the other room? There were some hidden up in the closet. Her favorites only left the boxes on holidays. I touched my head and contemplated going back into that room. I got a funny feeling in my gut. Maybe I should play it safe and stay here.
Grabbing the packaging tape, I secured the bottom on one of the boxes. This was going to be a long process. The movers would have packed up all the small knick-knacks for me, but I didn’t want their hands on everything. Besides, there was a process. You had to wrap these in newspaper. The feeling was awful, and the ink got all over my hands, but it that’s how she did it every year during the rotation. Personally, my favorite part was when we burned the left over newspaper in the back yard. The colors were tranquil.
Wiping my hands on my sweat pants, I started clearing off the shelf solely of snow globes. The first one I grabbed made me want to cry. It was as if I was putting her away. These were her things; they didn’t belong anywhere else. She’d have the spare bedroom in the apartment set up with her things, but it wasn’t the same. Her smell and her touch are going to be lost with this move, with or without the movers. That wasn’t fair. I missed her. I had to do this. It was wrap them or leave them, so I wrapped them. I did my best to rush through it so as to avoid any more thoughts about her.
The next shelf up was her dictionaries and encyclopedias. We didn’t have a set of them, just the ones that contained information about her favorite things. She was a real history buff. Maybe it was good to leave this house. I needed a way to move on. I’d never be able to move her things if I was staying here and I’d probably end up never leaving the house.
Halfway through that shelf, I saw a brown package in the right corner. Had it been hidden back there? How long had it been there? I wondered if my mom had done it. Had she forgotten about it? Was it just this? I had to pick it up and examine it. Turning the box over, I saw my name written in her hand writing. I dropped the box. My heart started hiccupping.
I stared at the box on the floor as if it were going to come alive and rip me to shreds. I was terrified and captivated. Slowly I stepped back and sat on the couch. With as much poise as I could manage, I leaned over and tried to look more closely at this box. Seeing it all wrapped and pretty, it dawned on me that it had to be something for my birthday. That’s why she had been hiding it from me. Every year we made a game out of me searching for my birthday presents. I would never win, I never wanted to win, I just enjoyed how much fun her and I had poking at each other. I never thought she’d have put them behind the books. That was the last place I would have honestly ever looked. She knew me so well.
Narrowing my eyes, I felt if I stared at it this way long enough I’d gain x-ray vision. Then I could see what was inside of it without the long drawn out process of having to open it. After a few minutes my eyes started watering and I had to look away. I was too scared to find out anyway and honestly, even though my birthday had passed, I felt a little guilty. She hadn’t given this to me, she wasn’t here, it wasn’t right. She’d never be here to hand it to me. Mira, you have to do this. She got this for you. It’s a gift.
“Okay. You’re just a box. There is nothing to be afraid of.” I said out loud.
I didn’t even believe my own words. I fidgeted with my hands. My nerves were on edge. I knew this could break me. It would break me. I had to think of way to do this. Staring at it was torture. I jumped up and started pacing.
Each time I stopped to allow my eyes another look, my anxiety increased. I wasn’t sure if my heart was going to collapse from the stress or the love from the gift she had given me from beyond the grave. I had to know, either way. Eventually I would open this box...one day. It may as well be now.
“I should be sitting. Yes. Sitting would be nicer.” I tried to calm myself.
Grabbing the box, I walked back over to the couch. Placing it roughly on the coffee table, there was faint echo. The box was hollow, at least I knew that much.
“Ugh!” I screamed when I finally caved.
It’s just a box, just a box. I needed to treat it like a band-aid and tear it open. Yes. I grabbed the box and ripped the flaps on the sides. With the pieces of cardboard on the floor, in my lap there was a fancier box. It made me want to laugh just out of pure irony alone.
It looked like a wooden jewelry box. The wood was a dark red, cherry almost. It had a gold clasp that swiveled to keep it shut. I pushed it to the side and the lid popped open on a spring. Music started playing. It made me jump and drop the box. When it snapped shut, the music stopped. All I could hear was my heart. I carefully picked it back up and set it on the coffee table. A few more seconds of coaxing, and I convinced myself to open it once more. The music played again. I found myself crying finally.
The tears had nothing to do with the song; I didn’t even recognize what melody it was. The entire over the top package my mother had went through for me, the way she remembered the jewelry box I picked out at the store months ago, by now I should have been prepared for it. I guess I was sort of hoping that I wouldn’t find anything from her. I was hoping she’d forgotten for once. I set it back on the table. A shimmer from the bottom caught my eye. There was a piece of jewelry inside. I had thought the jewelry box was too much, but now I was staring at a bulky, silver piece of jewelry.
With shaky hands and tear filled eyes, I picked it up to examine it. Two chains fell from two separate hooks on one charm. I didn’t understand it. Looking more closely and blinking a few times, I realized I was looking at two perfectly fitted puzzle pieces. One said ‘Mother’ and the other said ‘Daughter’. I was in such a shock that it took me a while to realize I wasn’t breathing. My tears choked me up and I wanted to collapse.
I set the necklace back down in the jewelry box and threw my head back staring up at the ceiling. I couldn’t believe it, a friggin’ amazingly wonderful gift from the grave? Could it really get any better than that?
My emotions quickly became more than I could handle and I felt my temper starting to boil. I lost control. It wasn’t fair. She should be here. My legs thrashed in my fit of rage. The table toppled over. Something made a loud noise. The jewelry box must’ve fallen off and closed. It was silent now, no music. Now I’m ruining her gifts? I felt even worse with myself. I sl
umped off the couch and leaned down over the box.
Sucking up my tears and forcing myself to gain control, I looked at the mess I had made. Please don’t be broken. The necklace had fallen out. It was facing the other side now. Through my ever growing tears, I managed to see there was something on the backside of it. It was much bigger than just the typical sterling silver indication.
“Oh c’mon, Mom, you’ve done enough, now.” I whispered in defeat.
I wiped the engraving with my thumb. The edges were freshly soldered. She had done this for me. Focusing my eyes, I read the words. ‘My missing piece, found.’
Crying into the hand that wasn’t holding me upright, I let my emotions take over me. I screamed out. My face was pulsating with all the blood that was rushing into it. The necklace swayed and touched my nose. Chucking the necklace across the room, I used one of the upturned legs to help myself up. It snapped under my weight and I went crashing down. I laid there on the bottom of the coffee table and wanted to laugh. Nothing could ever go right.
Jumping up and kicking one of the other legs, I only hurt myself even more. It didn’t even budge. Of course it didn’t. Why would anything cooperate? Well I’d sure have my way regardless. Something else was going to break in this house at my expense. It was the only way to vent the pain and brokenness that I was feeling inside.
The perfectly displayed shelves next to the fireplace were screaming at me. Taking my hands, I wiped everything onto the floor. Some of the snow globes bounced on the carpet, but one of them hit the edge of the fireplace and shattered. I stared at the floor and looked at all the destruction I had created. The broken mess suited this world better. Life should look like this; not all pretty and fake. No one had a perfect life in which they were perfectly happy. No one.
I went to destroy more of the shelves but I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. The wall, there was a blank spot. I didn’t remember anything falling. I wiped my tears and walked up on the couch. Our family time line nearly killed me. Seeing us so happy twisted my heart into my gut. I squeezed my hands. Looking down I saw where the missing picture had fallen.
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