Chapter 18 Stones with Photos
574 Words
"Mommy!" I call, then follow the light.
The light retreats, my legs are too short to keep up: "Mommy, wait for Emma."
I fall, struggle up, but the white light is gone.
Around me is darkness, I wave my hand but can't catch anything.
"Mommy, Mommy..." My torn voice floats in the silent space.
I sink into sadness, then my body feels a sudden pull.
Then I wake up, in a place with lots of rectangular stones.
I'm panting, feeling a deep suffocation from inside my body.
When the wind blows, my face feels cold. I reach up — I've been crying again.
I wipe my face, call Mommy again.
But Mommy isn't here either.
When my eyes clear, I look around.
Lush grass, green trees, flowers blooming. A peaceful, quiet feeling.
If it wasn't for those big stones, I'd really like it here. Daddy told me once this place is called Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, where the Hale family has always been buried.
After looking at my surroundings, I turn to the people making noise behind me.
Lots of people here, but I only know Daddy.
Daddy frowning, sad in his eyes.
He looks quietly at two stones on the ground, one big, one small.
I follow his gaze, see each stone has a photo on it.
The big one is Mommy's photo, the small one is mine.
I crouch down, looking at Mommy's photo carefully.
"Mommy's so pretty," I say.
Since Mommy got sick, I never saw her look this bright again.
Mommy was like my favorite sunflower, lighting up everything with sunshine.
I touch Mommy's photo, look for a while, then turn to my own photo.
I freeze when I see it.
I remember this photo.
It's from the first family portrait we took together with Mommy and Daddy.
I remember that day.
A Sunday afternoon, sunny, Daddy home for once. After lunch, Mommy suddenly suggested taking a family portrait.
Daddy was startled, wanted to say no, but Mommy worked on him until he agreed.
That day Daddy wore a suit as usual, Mommy wore an elegant gown with careful makeup.
When I heard the news, I put on my favorite dress, jumping around the foyer excited.
Daddy rarely went out with me.
Maybe because I was so happy, I secretly took Daddy's hand.
When Daddy noticed, he frowned but didn't pull away.
That day, I thought, was the happiest day of my life.
We went to the photo studio, took several shots.
But after a bit, Daddy's phone rang.
He saw the call, hesitated, then walked outside to answer.
The call went on, I wanted to call him back.
But I heard a woman's voice on the phone saying she missed Daddy.
Daddy said he'd leave soon.
I didn't listen to the rest, because Mommy came over.
I didn't know if Mommy heard, but Mommy's face didn't look good.
She shushed me, took me back to the studio.
I understood, sat back down.
Daddy came back, kept taking photos, but he seemed rushed.
Mommy didn't smile anymore either.
The photo session ended quick.
A few weeks later, the photos arrived at the house.
Mommy signed for them, put them on the table, didn't look again.
I sneaked a few peeks, touched them gently.
I didn't tell Mommy, but I really liked them, because in the photo, Daddy was looking at me for one second.
I thought — Daddy maybe loved me.
- Writer
