My swollen eyes survey the faces of those I used to know so well. Guilt takes the shape of tears. Sandy tells me how pretty I’ve gotten as I give her an awkward hug. A slightly plumper woman than Sandy who seems to know me says goodbye. I feel a pang in my chest as I pretend to remember her.
No longer am I a six year old princess; I am a fifteen year old traitor. Disgust fills my mind as I struggle to breathe because of my betrayal.
My dad escorts me to his red Suzuki, the only thing that can provide me with any comfort. When I situate myself in my dad’s car, I avert my eyes to the window. Tears that I’d been holding back now freely fall down my face.
“Hug your brother, he’s had a hard day.” My dad’s says.
“I already did!” I shriek, not wanting my dad or brother to see my face.
Alas, I gave my brother what we call a ‘normal’ hug through the window. He tousles my hair and makes it seem as he would hurt me to cheer me up. He departs to his car, and I am left with my dad.
Instead of waiting for him to talk about how much we loved GrannyBee, I turn on his CD player. Music drowns out the sounds of my poorly hidden sobs and my dad’s attempts to start a conversation.
Mumford and Sons becomes the soundtrack of my sorrows.
Traitor.
The climax of the song rings throughout the car, my black sweater balled in my fists as I try cling on to the fading scent of cigarettes.
My dad escorts me to his red Suzuki, the only thing that can provide me with any comfort. When I situate myself in my dad’s car, I avert my eyes to the window. Tears that I’d been holding back now freely fall down my face.
“Hug your brother, he’s had a hard day.” My dad’s says.
“I already did!” I shriek, not wanting my dad or brother to see my face.
Alas, I gave my brother what we call a ‘normal’ hug through the window. He tousles my hair and makes it seem as he would hurt me to cheer me up. He departs to his car, and I am left with my dad.
Instead of waiting for him to talk about how much we loved GrannyBee, I turn on his CD player. Music drowns out the sounds of my poorly hidden sobs and my dad’s attempts to start a conversation.
Mumford and Sons becomes the soundtrack of my sorrows.
Traitor.
The climax of the song rings throughout the car, my black sweater balled in my fists as I try cling on to the fading scent of cigarettes.
“I will hold on”
“Hailey?” GrannyBee’s voice croaks, “Do you want some sweet tea?”
“Sure!”
I hop up from my respected spot on the floor of GrannyBee's and Soto Man's living room. My feet drag on the cold, creaky floorboards. GrannyBee is at the stove cooking hash browns. She scrunches up her face while she squints at the searing hot pan.
Opening the freezer door, I reach up on my tip toes to reach the ice holder. As always, I find the dark blue, square container. Putting pressure on the miniature sized squares, I pop out a few ice cubes into a fuchsia colored cup that GrannyBee set out for me. GrannyBee retreats from the stove to retrieve the sweet tea for me.
She sets it on the table as I sit down at their wooden, oval table that always seemed to have potatoes resting on it. I pour myself a glass of tea as I dive into the Hostess Cinnabons that GrannyBee and Soto Man have handy every time we visit.
My face and fingers are already covered in sweetly sticky icing by the time GrannyBee places a plate of steaming hash browns on the table for my brother to eat after Soto Man and he get back from fishing. As she shakily takes a seat across from me, I am surrounded by the ironically comforting smell of cigarettes. A goofy smile spreads across my face as I am yet again reminded how I never want to leave my GrannyBee’s side.
“Sure!”
I hop up from my respected spot on the floor of GrannyBee's and Soto Man's living room. My feet drag on the cold, creaky floorboards. GrannyBee is at the stove cooking hash browns. She scrunches up her face while she squints at the searing hot pan.
Opening the freezer door, I reach up on my tip toes to reach the ice holder. As always, I find the dark blue, square container. Putting pressure on the miniature sized squares, I pop out a few ice cubes into a fuchsia colored cup that GrannyBee set out for me. GrannyBee retreats from the stove to retrieve the sweet tea for me.
She sets it on the table as I sit down at their wooden, oval table that always seemed to have potatoes resting on it. I pour myself a glass of tea as I dive into the Hostess Cinnabons that GrannyBee and Soto Man have handy every time we visit.
My face and fingers are already covered in sweetly sticky icing by the time GrannyBee places a plate of steaming hash browns on the table for my brother to eat after Soto Man and he get back from fishing. As she shakily takes a seat across from me, I am surrounded by the ironically comforting smell of cigarettes. A goofy smile spreads across my face as I am yet again reminded how I never want to leave my GrannyBee’s side.
“I will hold on”
After an afternoon of watching Dinosaurs, Maddy, Emmy, and I are ravenous for something new, something scary. “Please Soto Man?” With three pairs of porcelain-shaped eyes on him, Soto Man complies.
My GrannyBee takes a slow drag of her cigarette to contemplate whether or not to allow the doe-eyed six year old girls under her care to watch a horror movie. After an entire glass of sweet tea and a few pleas later, she finally agrees to let us watch two old scary movies. The two thrilling classics leave me breathless and paranoid. Not as paranoid as Maddy, though. Maddy's wails are heard throughout the quaint home. Swinging her head violently from side to side, she refuses to enter GrannyBee’s bedroom.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, Maddy!” GrannyBee and Soto Man insisted.
Cursing in Spanish, Soto Man removes himself from the depleting couch, annoyed. As if Soto Man had grown protective armor and a shield appeared in his hand, he took a step into the bedroom to fight off the possessing vampire or crazy neighbor from the movies. I watch as Sir Soto Man, my knight in shining armor, takes a 180 degree turn, so he can face us. There aren’t any murderous villains or ferocious beasts gnawing on his shoulder. He stands there, a knight in a misbuttoned, flannel shirt, with the sleeves cut off and grease-stained jeans and thick books.
Cursing in Spanish, Soto Man removes himself from the depleting couch, annoyed. As if Soto Man had grown protective armor and a shield appeared in his hand, he took a step into the bedroom to fight off the possessing vampire or crazy neighbor from the movies. I watch as Sir Soto Man, my knight in shining armor, takes a 180 degree turn, so he can face us. There aren’t any murderous villains or ferocious beasts gnawing on his shoulder. He stands there, a knight in a misbuttoned, flannel shirt, with the sleeves cut off and grease-stained jeans and thick books.
Maddy and Emmy trample over each other into GrannyBee's room to get ready for bed. Still convinced that the mythical monster will devour my six year old body alive, I stay in the safety of the living room.
"There's nothing to be scared of, baby girl." My knight gives me a wide smile, his cigarette stained teeth peeking through his permanently chapped lips. Taking a step toward me, he embraces me, and I am once again comforted by the overpowering scent of cigarettes.
I am no longer afraid.
“Hold”
I blink several times to let my eyes adjust to the dark. My breath catches as I stare at my frail GrannyBee who sleeps next to me. At first, her slumped over body makes no movement. No longer can I smell the thick scent of cigarettes that seem to drip out of her pores. Focusing my eyes on her, I see her steady breath going in and out. I exhale, relieved. Her comforting cigarette fumes return to me.
My tense body relaxes as I turn onto my back to face the ceiling. I blink back tears that have formed in my eyes. From the time I’ve had a clear understanding of death, the horrific fear of waking up to my GrannyBee, dead, has clouded my mind. I exhale once again as I realize that this horrific scene is only still a fear.
Quietly, I tilt my head so that my eyes fall on my resting GrannyBee again. A shaky laugh escapes my lips as I think to myself, like so many times before, how much I never want to leave my GrannyBee’s and Soto Man’s house. Memories rush to my mind about how I used to hide under my Soto Man’s truck to hide from my parents, “I don’t wanna go home!” My shrill shrieks shaking the sweet tea in my GrannyBee's dark blue cup.
I promise myself to always come back to see my GrannyBee and Soto Man, no matter how old I get. I will waltz up to their doorstep, let myself inside, and go to sit in my respected chair at their worn down kitchen table when I'm 27. Though, it will be different then. Instead of GrannyBee and Soto Man taking care of me, I will take care of them. I will repay them for being like grandparents to me from the time I was born, to right now as a melodramatic pre-teen. I will be the one to boil the water for the sweet tea.
My tense body relaxes as I turn onto my back to face the ceiling. I blink back tears that have formed in my eyes. From the time I’ve had a clear understanding of death, the horrific fear of waking up to my GrannyBee, dead, has clouded my mind. I exhale once again as I realize that this horrific scene is only still a fear.
Quietly, I tilt my head so that my eyes fall on my resting GrannyBee again. A shaky laugh escapes my lips as I think to myself, like so many times before, how much I never want to leave my GrannyBee’s and Soto Man’s house. Memories rush to my mind about how I used to hide under my Soto Man’s truck to hide from my parents, “I don’t wanna go home!” My shrill shrieks shaking the sweet tea in my GrannyBee's dark blue cup.
I promise myself to always come back to see my GrannyBee and Soto Man, no matter how old I get. I will waltz up to their doorstep, let myself inside, and go to sit in my respected chair at their worn down kitchen table when I'm 27. Though, it will be different then. Instead of GrannyBee and Soto Man taking care of me, I will take care of them. I will repay them for being like grandparents to me from the time I was born, to right now as a melodramatic pre-teen. I will be the one to boil the water for the sweet tea.
“I will hold on”
A mixture of guilt and disgust fills my lungs as I rest my head on the car’s window. I did not keep my promise. I promised to come back; I promised that I would return the favor of them caring for me. The last time I saw my GrannyBee was at Soto Man’s funeral a few months before. Before that, it must have been a year before I last saw either GrannyBee or Soto Man.
My body slumps and I am thrown into a pool of regret and sorrow. I cannot escape this spiraling down, drowning sensation. I know I will never be able to shake this off. Sorrow and longing are no longer emotions, they are a part of me. I long for the days when I was a naive six year old princess who would run around my GrannyBee's and Soto Man's back yard without a care in the world. I long for the days when my innocence protected me from any form of trouble, acting as a shield for my mistakes.
Most of all, though, I long for the times of cigarettes and sweet tea.
My body slumps and I am thrown into a pool of regret and sorrow. I cannot escape this spiraling down, drowning sensation. I know I will never be able to shake this off. Sorrow and longing are no longer emotions, they are a part of me. I long for the days when I was a naive six year old princess who would run around my GrannyBee's and Soto Man's back yard without a care in the world. I long for the days when my innocence protected me from any form of trouble, acting as a shield for my mistakes.
Most of all, though, I long for the times of cigarettes and sweet tea.
“I will hold on hope”
