Maddie’s Story

Please click the link to read the first part of Maddie’s Story http://wp.me/p8pGqR-S

My Life As Maddie

Walking into my room I don’t notice any of my surroundings, I head directly to my bathroom and turn the nobs to have a warm shower. I turn and walk over to the shelves to grab a towel. As the room starts to steam, I can feel the grime on my skin and the anger inside me built. My mom’s death will not be the thing that breaks me and sends me off the deep end. No, the end of her life will give me the strength and courage I need to move forward in my life and not wallow in the pain my heart has gone through in the past. I step into the shower and decide to forget everything but the thought of just making it through the day.

As I step out of the shower, the realization that I have five hours to kill hits me as I start to get dressed in a blue sundress with pink flower printed on it. Why is that a thing though? Why when a person is grieving a lost do they have to provide food and a place for people to talk about the dead. I feel that the individual who started this ritual must have been an attention whore. I mean seriously, I just want time for myself and now I have to deal with everyone saying “I’m sorry for your lost.” I just want to get this day over with as little crying as possible.

As I head downstairs, I decide to go into the kitchen that’s spotless besides the empty bowls from the cereal I’ve had over the last few days. I head to sink and begin to fill it with water to wash the dishes. I open the window above the sink to let in the fresh morning air of a new day that brings all the new possibilities inside and lets out the stale air full of my saddest.

Cleaning the dishes and putting them in the drying rack took ten minutes and I still need to waste time until 3 o’clock. Baking is the only thing that can kill the time I have left fast enough. I decide to go and find my phone that has been off since the news first broke and the calls started coming in. I find it on the coffee table in front the couch I lived on for the past three days and turn it on. As I turn it on the notifications immediately bombard my phone, and I ignore them all to set the alarm for 2 o’clock to notify me that it is time to get dressed for the service. With the alarm set, I lose myself in the task of baking.

My phone doesn’t ring during the first cake and pie I make but while mixing the second cake batter my phone rings. The ringtone catches my attention right away. Only three numbers have personalized ringtone; my mom, AD, and Kat. Kat ringtones blared from my phone, and for a second I believe I’m hallucinating, but as I walk to the counter where it sits, I see her set profile picture where she is flipping me off and answer the phone.

I bring the phone to my ear and speak to a background of music. “Hello.”

“Hooker, do you even know how many times I have called you over the past three days to only get forward to your voicemail. Not once did the fucker ring. Oh no, your bitch ass probably switched off your phone and left it sitting on your bedside table. Why the fuck did you not call me bitch? Explain yourself you little streetwalker.” I smile as she ranted about me not having my phone on for her to contact me.

“Actually, I have not been to my room in three days and my phones been off on the coffee table for your information pussy lover,” I say this smiling as I know the response that’s coming.

“You little twat. It was once in college for like 4 months. And the only reason you continually bring it up is because you’re mad that you never got me to ride your face when you had the chance.” Her same come back as always. “But seriously your mother dies, and I get nothing. No email, text, phone call, voicemail and not even a smoke message bitch. What. The. Fuck.?”

I can hear the anger and hurt in her voice as she speaks, and I know that me not trying to contact her was the wrong move on my part.

“I’m sorry I haven’t even moved off the couch since that day until today. Just couldn’t gather the energy do anything after I got everything finished making all the arrangements for her service. I literally made just made flyers and posted all the info on social media so I wouldn’t have to answer the same fucking questions again and again. I just needed the time for myself you know? I mean the first before I shut off my phone I had at least 25 unknown number calling me. This people I had never talked to before probably fucking asked around to find my number during the roughest time of my life so that they can say they did. I mean fuck that bullshit, who the fuck needs them right. If they can share my number with the whole community, then they can share the funeral service details. It absolutely fucked up that the only time people care about Maggie is when she moves back in with mother at 27 and when her mother dies. Those people can sit on a big fat…”

“Sweetie as adorable as it is to hear you call everyone an asshole I would much rather have this conversation in person, so why don’t you come on up the door.” As she speaks after cutting me off during my rant, I can only hear the words, but I cannot comprehend anything that just came from that sentence.

To Be Continued…

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