Last Goodbye

Prologue

I remember how my mother frantically pulled me to the car. I remember her putting her finger to her lips, indicating to me to be quiet. We were sneaking away, my father past out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. I remember asking my mother as we peeled out of the driveway where Athena was. Momma adjusted the rearview mirror so she could see me, but didn't reply. I saw her normally full lips pull back into a thin line.

Athena. I don't recall much of her, only her soft blue eyes and the way her tiny fingers wrapped around my much larger one. She looked exactly like daddy, his same face shape and eyes. I've always looked more like Momma; brown, dead eyes and a thin face. My baby sister was abandoned there, with that monster of a man. I find it hard to believe that a woman could save one child and leave the other.

We pulled up to a grocery store just on the outskirts of town. Momma went inside, returning much later with a paper bag filled with essential foods. Old enough to know that something was wrong, I began to cry. At five years old, I could see the fear in Momma's eyes. I could see that we weren't just going somewhere, we weren't coming back.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Momma yells once we're back on the road. Her hazel eyes are wild, dangerous. I can see her lip quiver from the backseat. Why is she crying? Where are we going?

I want Momma to be nice. She never yells at me like this. Shut up? I can't. Momma, I'm scared.

We drive for a long time, and I eventually stop my sobbing. Momma's tears are still silently rolling down her face, but I know not to ask about them. She's mean right now, the way Daddy is. Maybe Daddy's the nice one now, I think to myself.

We roll to a stop alongside a field of long grass. Momma leans her head against the steering wheel and lets out a long, heavy sigh. When she looks back at me, she looks even worse than before. Her face is a blotchy red, eyes bloodshot.

"We're home baby, we're home."