House of Cards by K. Pinson Page B

these days. I could probably get robbed blind and still be sitting here staring into space. Now , just looking at her makes me want to scream, break shit, and slap her across the face, but I don’t do anything. Not a damn thing. I can’t even muster up enough energy to avert my eyes from her face, so I sit in silence and stare. My mother is dressed in the same outfit I’d seen her in on the day of the accident. Isn’t it weird the unimportant things that we remember?
    She stands in front of me, extremely still. She appears to be cold and her sapphire eyes calculated. My insides twist and disdain fills my being. She almost looks translucent , her pale skin so closely mirroring my own in tone. The resemblance between her, Abby, and I is uncanny. I’m just glad I don’t look like him. If I did, I’d never look in the mirror again. Finally, she speaks and it takes much longer than normal for her words to ascend from my ear drum and register into my brain.
    “Push.” A one syllable world, filled with demand and intent.
    I frown, causing my skin to feel as if it was cracking all the way across my face. My facial muscles have had little workout in the last couple of months. I look into her eyes searching.
    “Push, Avalynn. Fight. You need me, so I’m here , but you know deep down. Avalynn, you know.”
    The more she spoke, the more confused I felt.
     
    “What are you talking about, Mom?” I question, unsure if I am going to like the answer.
    “I know you want this to be the truth, but life isn’t so easy. Sometimes it just sucks the life out of us and there is nothing that we can do to change it. My girls are more impressive and beautiful than I could have ever imagined. The only one to thank for that is you, Avabug. I couldn’t save you , I couldn’t even save myself, and for that I am truly sorry. But you can do this - you are strong enough, even with all of that self-doubt burdening your frail shoulders.”
     
    I can feel the warmth of hot tears sliding down my cheeks. It has been such a long time since I’ve cried and I really have no idea why I am crying now. Or maybe I do; everything is coming together and my outlook on things are glum. I want to believe this to be the truth and deep down something breaks in me and I realize I have created a mirage inside of me masking the outcome I never wanted to be a part of. Right here, this is the end - the end of my delusions. The end of not dealing with what I should have long ago. I can feel every little unnerving emotion and I may just explode with the pent up pressure of everything I am; the negative energy that has held me captive for far too long. Here I sit, alone, rocking back and forth for God himself only knows how long. I am begging for just one lungful of the thick air that is surrounding me, suffocating me. Panic grips me and my breaths get fewer and far between. I’m clawing at my chest, attempting to rip out my rapidly beating heart and bury it in the backyard with the secrets I’ve been keeping. This is me admitting to myself that I am not strong enough to face the past that continuously stalks my whole life, laughing in my face, and daring me to be happy. My scars suddenly feel more defined. I look down to see raging, red lines not so delicately interwoven throughout the entirety of my body. It’s been a long time coming. I am hoping that this is not the end, but only the beginning for realization to strike me and better things to come from the ashes.
    Time staggers by and I calm myself enough to make a phone call. I’m surprised at the voice on the other end, but anything is better than solitude and being alone right now is the farthest thing from my mind. My knight in dark shining armor arrives to save the day , only he’s not my knight this time.
    Tripp doesn’t even knock on the door, just opens it and rushes inside straight to me. He wraps me in his arms and I feel safe again. It’s nothing like Daxton - I don’t think anyone will ever be