p e n u m b r a (discontinued)

Chapter 2: And the smoke hovers

I remember the beeps, the eerie beeps in this sterile hospital room. I remember how the monitor lit up with color and sound. I remember the green line that ticked in a deadly pattern. (up down up down... up down up down). It was like a metronome, but worse. With every beep I felt life drain from her body. We were alone, just me and my Nana. I sat on a chair by the edge of the bed, straining to hear any sort of inhale or exhale. I heard it faintly, she was still there. She wasn't there mentally, but she was there.

We've already said our goodbyes. "I'm not really dying Kitty Kat," she said, "God's just taking me home... taking me home." Her whispers were hushed, and it was a great struggle for every word to escape her lips and slither through my ear canal. I remember when I was a naive kid. She would tell me that people don't die, and that they just go home to God. I believed that with all my heart, but now I know better. My body was tense, my mind wasn't focused, my heart stinged with a horrified sort of worry. I looked at her, she wasn't the same Nana I knew. Her body only weighed sixty-five pounds. She was so frail. She looked like an insect, caught in a spider web of needles and test tubes. This intense atmosphere made my fingers shake and my body quake. With every beep, my heart sank lower and lower to the pit of my stomach. This isn't really happening, I thought to myself, I couldn't accept this as the truth. I shook my head in vain and closed my eyes tight. It was all a lie. It was all a lie, it was all a lie, it was all a lie. This woman isn't Nana. She couldn't be, my Nana was strong. My Nana was healthy. My Nana will be fine. She had to be right? She prayed every single day without fail. She loved Christ more than anyone I've ever known. And she was so innocent. She never did anything to deserve this.

"Nana, please. Don't do this to me now. You're all I have left. Please God, Jesus, the universe, anyone!! Don't take her away from me!" I cried out loud, and looked up frantically searching for a sign. Any sort of sign that someone heard me. I was greeted with only silence. The beeping slowed down. I laid my head down on the bed, wallowing in my despair. I've lost all hope, I was drowning in depression and grief. There was no avoiding it. Nana was leaving, and no God was going to save her. The beeps rang in my ears, and I felt another stab wound piercing my skin.

My breath went short with the final beep that dragged, on and on. I scrambled to my feet and leaned over her. I struggled to listen to her breathing, nothing. I pressed my ear against her chest, nothing. I shook her and screamed her name, nothing. I slapped her over and over "Nana! Nana no! Stop it! Wake up! Nana!" Nothing...She was gone. She's gone home, but where am I supposed to go? I have no one.... I'm all alone.

***

It's autumn, and here I am, watching the little sprinkle down from the hanging branches embedded in the sky. I lose myself in the quiet. This highway is smooth. There is a screeching silence inside this car, and I shift uncomfortably in my heated leather passenger seat. Often times, I turn my gaze to look at him and his stone hard face. I would open my mouth to speak, and when he looks at me I shrink back into my seat and stare at the raining leaves, ignoring my father yet again.

Father, it's a sickening word to use. The word "father" connotes love, respect and admiration. Yet, to me, a father is the person that dumps you with your grandmother and never bothers to care. I can see it in his eyes, he hates this too. He must feel so uncomfortable being with the daughter he neglected for so long. He must feel guilty and awkward in the silence. His face, his brown eyes, are flushed with worry and the weariness of old age. I feel like with every mile, he loses two years of his life.

It's been a seven hour drive. It will be a remaining two hours until we've reached our destination: Wellden Heights, Massachusetts. It's here, in this small town, where I will spend the remainder of my Highschool Career.

"Are you sure this is what you want Katrina? There are other schools, other places, or you could stay with-"

"No." I say sharply. And that was the end of the conversation. We both sit back in our own far corners of the car, staring at the gentle leaves, never to utter another word until we arrived.