Years ago tragedy struck the Calloway's causing the family to fall apart. Lucariah Augustine St. Francis Calloway was left in the ruins of it all with a mother who couldn't bother and a father who disappeared one night with his older brothers. For...
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The sun was brighter yesterday.
My friend said that to me the night after his older sister died six years ago. In that moment I didn't understand it. The sun always shines the same; so how can it seem any darker. A day came when I finally understood; I wasn't ready for the sun to never shine the same again.
To wake to that big ball in the sky shining half as bright as it used to.
They tell us to guard our hearts.
I told him the night my older brothers moved away from home. They couldn't take the pain from her death...they blamed me. We hardened our hearts to stone then hollowed whatever remained. So no one could ever hurt us again.
Never let them know your fears. They prey on the weak.
He told me. I wish I'd have listened.
I sat here on a lonely street corner, on a cold night. The wind whipped at my cheeks and threatened to blow off the hood of my warn sweater.
Mother was late again. She was always late when it came to the likes of me, it's as though she forgot she had another child after the first three left; our father in tow. I'd been released from school four hours ago. The sun had already begun to set and she was no where to be found.
"Oui! Crow!" My head whipped to the sound of my name. "Scurry on home, kid. She ain't come'n for ya." My shoulders slumped as I stood and begun the long torturous trek home.
Crow. It wasn't my real name, just a name the people hanging around corner stores and park benches called me. They said I reminded them of a crow, with my ruffled black, fluffy hair and darker than night eyes. Claimed I was too smart for my own good.
After walking the five miles to my house I was greeted with silence. Not a sound of life in the four walls I called a home. I released a steady sigh, looks as though I would be alone tonight. My stomach chose that moment to release a loud rumble and an ache that demanded food.
I pressed a fist to the area beneath my ribs and walked right past the kitchen, finding myself in a small room that could've been better suited as a closet. But I liked it, having the walls close in around me. Some nights I even find myself camping out on the floor of the linen closet- the smallest one we have- it takes a lot of coaxing to drag me out. It helps me forget about the world around me for a few hours, a few days even if no one's paying attention.
Falling back onto the spring infested mattress, I released a cat-like yawn and burrowed my face into the pillow. Nights like these became my normal after my brothers left home and our parents split. Father disappearing in thin air and the boys refusing a call or visit, I think it broke something in my mother. She got herself into some things I'd rather not dwell on, and after six years of the same it's a wonder she's still living.
