Endless Devotion

Chapter 14-Unimaginable Loss

Mary POV

For the past week, I haven't slept well. Not well at all. People ask me what had been occurring at the house, and I have refused to respond to anyone. Even in prison, Dad has been a chatterbox. After Dad was discharged from the hospital, he was taken to the police station to ask what had occurred. Dad confessed that he and Mom were arguing over money and how they wouldn't have been able to send me to college and how Dad was getting ready to start asking me for my whole paychecks from working at Cafe Nerd. Mom had defended me and told my Dad that he wasn't going to take my wages. Dad slapped my Mom, and when Mom got up from the floor to call the police, Dad got his gun from the dresser drawer and shot her twice in the head. Dad, realizing what he had done, tried to shoot himself, and he failed. Neighbors heard the argument and had called the police. I had been crying for days. Detectives believe this to be an open and shut case. Life, unfortunately, had to go on. Mom had left some money for her funeral expenses and for me to get out of town. 

"Honey? It would be best if you spoke to me. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours."

I am instantly snapped back to reality. Nolie, my coworker, was trying to make me talk about what happened. I look down at the floor and say, 

"Nolie, as appreciative as I am, I need you to leave me alone for now. I don't want to talk about it." 

Nolie leaves me sitting alone in the funeral home parlor. I had already spoken to the funeral home, and they were very gracious about my situation. As I was processing what has occurred, tears slowly fell from my face, and I quickly dried them. I felt so cold and lonely. I know Nolie was trying to comfort me, but I didn't want to hear it at the moment. My whole life has suddenly changed in the blink of an eye. I look at my watch and see that the time was already 4:41 in the afternoon. I sigh heavily, and I covered my eyes with my hands. This act was a coping mechanism that I had learned when I was a child, and my parents would constantly fight. Suddenly, I heard the door open, and there stood my senior year counselor. He walks up to me and sits beside me. He clears his throat softly and says to me, 

"I know that these things don't happen daily and that it would be a cliche if I say 'I'm sorry for your loss,' but I truly am sorry for your loss, and if there is anything that you might need, I'm here for you."

I look at him and say, 

"Nothing can be done. It is what it is, and I must deal with it. Like an adult." 

Mr. Aylor grabs my arms and escorts me to the door, where he placed me in a taxi. He instructed the driver to drive me home. Mr. Aylor waved goodbye to me, and I waved back. As I being driven home, I then suddenly remembered something: 

Where was Charlie when I needed him?