December 4th, 2007

All was quiet before the front door creaked and a warm voice rang out.

"Honey, I'm home!"

A five year old me jumped up and ran to my dad, wrapping my arms around him before he could put his suit (fresh from the dry cleaners) down. He chuckled and tousled my hair affectionately, then looked past me. His eyes were suddenly wide, and I turned my head to see what all the fuss was about.

Mom's head peaked out from the top of the stairs, and her face brightened considerably when she saw Dad. Her hair was done in a complicated braid that I couldn't quite understand, but it looked beautiful anyway, even from a distance. The daze of awe vanished as she jumped back and ran down the hall, yelling "it's bad luck! Go away!" with a laugh.

Dad's smile was still there, and he released me from the hug and patted me on the shoulder. "Go get dressed," he whispered gently. I nodded and ran up to my room, which was decorated with space posters and little Marvel action figures along my dresser.

I took one look at the tuxedo Mom had picked out for me and frowned with distaste. I hated tuxes. They were all tight and itchy. Still, it was her big day, and I would never do anything to ruin it.

Mom had given birth to me when she was seventeen years old, still in the middle of eleventh grade. She and Dad were two of the biggest nerds in school, but everyone knew them as a couple that was madly in love. When people found out that she was pregnant, they all expected him to leave her. But not only did he stay, he stayed over at her house most nights of the week, helped her get through her classes, and never left her side.

Mom always loved telling me stories about how Dad would end up falling asleep with his face buried in a textbook, and she'd end up studying herself before giving in to fatigue right by his side.

They'd never gotten married because of school, the new baby, and a few years later, Polli. Mom and Dad made a pact that they'd be married before Polli turned three, so neither of us would have to live as bastards any longer.

Today was the day.

The night before Dad had been so excited he couldn't contain himself, turned on music, and danced with Mom around the living room until they were both dizzy and fell on the couch. This was hours after my bedtime, but I stayed up and watched them anyway.

After throwing on the ridiculous outfit, I ran out of my room, tugging at my sleeves, to find Uncle Arty hanging by the staircase, laughing with his wife Talia, who was holding Polli. I immediately slowed down, scared that I'd get yelled at (again) for going too fast. They were not the craziest couple.

Aunt Talia turned to look at me and plastered a smile on her face, then set Polli down on the floor. "Hi, little Marty," she cooed (obviously fake; she was not a good liar). "Would you mind taking your sister for a little? Thank you, dear." She patted my head lightly and turned back to her husband.

Polli looked up at me with large brown eyes full of curiosity, and I took her hand. Together we went outside to the backyard, which was set up with rose petals and chairs. There was even an arch set up at the end of the aisle.

Most people were already sitting, so Polli and I took our places at the back. Polli was a flower girl along with our cousin Lu, who was twelve, so hopefully would be able to keep her under control. I was in charge of the rings.

Oh no. The rings.

I jumped to life, handed Polli to Grandma, and ran back inside, almost crashing into Mom.

Her long brown hair was in that beautiful braid, little pink flowers entwined. There was no makeup on her face—she never wore makeup, but she was breathtaking anyway. Her dress went to the floor, like a ball gown. At the top it was blue, with off shoulder sleeves, but as it passed her hips the blue melted to white.

Her face filled with worry and she quickly bent down so that she was level with me. "Marty, are you alright?"

I nodded quickly. "Yup. Yeah. Nothing. I... um... gotta go." I ducked around her and ran up to my room, searching through all my drawers for those darn rings. Where were they...

I could here the violin playing from outside and winced. I needed those rings.

Finally I found one of my socks and stuffed my hand into it. When I pulled it out, there were two golden rings in it. I breathed a sigh of relief; according to the many stories Mom and Dad told me, those rings had been their promise rings from high school, and the rings with which Dad had proposed (okay, it may have been him getting out of buying an engagement ring, but they could barely afford their tiny apartment at the time). In short, they were pretty important.

I ran downstairs and got back to the yard just in time to walk down the aisle. Mom and Dad beamed at me from the end, and I held my head high.

I reached them, and soon after they finally kissed and sealed their long awaited marriage, and my heart had never felt so full.

April 29th, 2011

I stepped off the school bus and ran to the front door of our house, a bright smile on my face. I burst inside and held up my paper high.

"Mom, look! I got a hundred on my English test!" I lowered the paper upon seeing her, and my smile faded. "What's going on?"

Mom had her face buried in her hands, and when she lowered them I saw her eyes were red and that she was shaking. "Honey, come sit down," she said as best she could.

I stayed put. "Where's Polli?"

"She's at your grandma's," Mom said softly. "Come here, sweetie, please."

Still, I didn't move. "What about Dad?"

No answer.

Mom had gone stiff at his name but didn't do anything else, as if she were afraid that if she moved she'd break. "He's, um... he's not coming home, Marty."

Silence, then, "You're lying."

"Marty—"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

I turned and ran out the door before she could say anything else. I knew what that meant, but if she didn't say it maybe that meant that nothing had actually happened. Maybe if I waited long enough, when I returned Dad would be there.

After about ten minutes of running I stopped to catch my breath. As I did, a police car pulled up beside me, and Mom stepped out. I tried to run again, but she caught me and held me in her arms. Finally, I began to cry.

That night I climbed into bed, but almost as soon as I began to drift off I sat up and began to scream. Within seconds Mom was in my room holding me.

That was what happened every night for the next week. Eventually Polli came home from grandma, and she took the news a little better, since she was younger and didn't have a very good understanding of the situation.

When things calmed down, I'd wake up at night to hear soft music playing downstairs. Each time it happened I'd get up and sneak over to watch Mom either sit and cry or dance by herself. It didn't take long for me to remember that it was the same song she and Dad had danced to the night before their wedding.

We ended up having to sell that stereo, as well as many other belongings of ours. Soon my action figures vanished from my dresser, the coffee maker from the counter, and even Mom's wedding dress. We struggled with our bills, and Mom tried to reach out to our relatives (most of her family had turned her away after the pregnancy, so she looked to Dad's side). None of them helped. Uncle Arty and Aunt Talia even told her that they weren't family anymore, now that Dad was gone. I would have killed them, if Mom had let me.

Luckily Jane's parents were around, and they became our family, as well as Jane. They helped us with our debt and bills, and even watched over us when Mom had to work. We'd probably be out on the streets now if it wasn't for them.

I was still haunted by Dad's death, and Mom couldn't afford therapy. At night I'd have nightmares of him coming back all bloody and zombie like, with his fireman's uniform all burnt and torn beyond recognition. Each time I'd wake up either screaming or crying. Mom was there every time.

A lot of nights I slept over at Jane's. I didn't want Mom to lose too much sleep over helping me. When she found out, though, she sat me down and told me I should never do that again.

"I want to be here for you, Marty," she said in her tired voice. Her hair was already graying by then. "Please don't feel like you have to stay away from me because of your nightmares. I will always be there for you."

I looked up at her with tears in my eyes and whimpered. "Promise?"

She smiled and took my hand, giving it a little squeeze.

"Promise."