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flipflop_divaThis entry is a reimagining of muchtooarrogant's entry from Week 2, Reversion! Thank you for letting me borrow your characters!!
She watched her parents fighting from the barely cracked door of her bedroom. Their room was at the other end of the hall, but neither of them had bothered to close their door — not that it would have kept out the sound of their voices growing louder and louder — and she could see her mother pacing back and forth, carrying handfuls of clothes and makeup and shoes, while her father stood, hunched over, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
She wanted to feel desperately sad that this was happening. Her best friend as a child and as a teenager, Amy, had gone through her own parents’ divorce, and at the time Maya had thought it was the worst thing she could ever imagine. But that was before everything had changed.
Sometimes it was hard to believe it had only been fifteen months ago that her world had fallen apart. It had been the day of what was supposed to be her final band recital for the year. She’d had a solo, and she had been practicing non-stop for weeks. The night before, she had been out in the backyard, practicing one last time, when she had heard the creak of the back door. Her father had come home early from his business trip.
“I couldn’t miss your band recital!” he’d said. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with the regret.”
She’d thought he was being overdramatic, but he had been working a lot and he had flown home just for her so she had kept her thoughts to herself. He’d asked her then if he could take her and Amy to breakfast in the morning and drop them off. It had been a sweet offer, and she had told him so.
But in the morning, her father had still been sleeping, worn out from his trip home. And Amy had already texted to say she was on the way.
“I could wake him up,” her mother had offered, but Maya had shaken her head.
“Tell Dad I’ll see him tonight!”
Thirty minutes later, after a quick stop at the local donut store, Amy and Maya were waiting at the red light of a busy intersection, stopped beside an 18-wheeler they could barely see around. They were laughing and chatting, and the light turned green.
They didn’t see the truck that ran the red light, not until it plowed into them, not until it was too late.
Maya’s dad took Amy’s death almost harder than she did. It was like he blamed himself for not driving them or taking them to breakfast first. And to make up for it, he didn’t want to let Maya out of his sight. He wanted to drive her everywhere, keep her from spending time anywhere where he wasn’t also with her. It was overbearing. She felt like she was suffocating.
And oddly enough, he seemed to blame her mom too, for turning off the alarm even though Maya had said it was okay.
But blame was everywhere in their house these days. Blame and grief and the death of a life they’d all had the day before the accident.
And now she was here, watching her parents fight for what she knew was the final time of their marriage. Her mom was going to leave. And Maya was going to what? Split time between the two of them until she went to college? If she went to college that is. Her grades this year had nose-dived.
Maya sighed. Sometimes she felt like she had been the one who was supposed to die that day. Sometimes she wished she could go back, to wake her dad up that morning, to change the course of fate.
Her parents’ voices were getting even louder, and Maya couldn’t bear to listen anymore. She closed the door, turning around to face her room, but she felt weird all of a sudden. Lightheaded. And her room seemed to be shrouded in fog. Except she wasn’t in her room anymore but in the kitchen, and she was holding her flute — the flute that had been destroyed fifteen months ago — in her hands.
She gasped and almost dropped it.
“Maya, sweetheart, be careful.” She whirled around to see her mother behind her, dressed in that ugly orange robe she had been wearing that morning. “Is Amy on her way?”
Maya stared at her. Was this really happening?
“Dad?” she asked tentatively.
“Sleeping,” her mother answered. “I turned off the alarm, but I can wake him up if you really want.”
Did she really want?
It is your time of choosing. Stay here, or go back.
“Wake him up please,” she said.
--
Breakfast was rushed after their late start but delicious. Her dad took them to a little café down the street from the band hall that had the best cinnamon rolls in town. He still looked tired, even after his three cups of coffee, and he hadn’t bothered to shave or brush his hair, but he seemed relieved that Maya had her mom wake him up.
He drove them the back way from the café to the band hall — Maya had suggested it, so they avoided the big intersection, and her dad had no problem with it.
She and Amy were getting out of the car, reaching for their instruments, when she saw her dad answer his phone. She smiled at him and blew him a kiss and then shut the car door behind her.
She and Amy headed inside. She felt like a huge, horrible weight that she hadn’t known she was carrying had been lifted from her shoulders. She wanted to laugh and skip and sing and dance and cry and make so much beautiful music from her beautiful flute, and she wanted to put her arms around Amy and never let her go.
They were almost to the door of the band hall when she heard his anguish cry.
“Maya!”
Maya whirled around. Her dad was standing on the sidewalk, about fifty yards away. He had left the door to the car open. His face was pale, and he looked like he was shaking.
“Dad?” she whispered. She felt like all the air in her lungs was suddenly gone.
He held out his phone to her, and was he … was he crying?
“Dad?” she said again.
“There’s been an accident,” he said. His voice was so quiet, she could barely hear him. Except his words were already ringing in her ears.
She didn’t want him to go on, she didn’t want him to continue.
“Don’t say it,” she said.
“It’s your mom,” he said. “She’s dead.”
Fiction.
This was written for the new season of![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
therealljidol, Wheel of Chaos! If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me and all of the other amazing contestants. You can find all the entries here. Look for the voting post on Friday night!
muchtooarrogant's entry from Week 2, Reversion! Thank you for letting me borrow your characters!!She watched her parents fighting from the barely cracked door of her bedroom. Their room was at the other end of the hall, but neither of them had bothered to close their door — not that it would have kept out the sound of their voices growing louder and louder — and she could see her mother pacing back and forth, carrying handfuls of clothes and makeup and shoes, while her father stood, hunched over, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
She wanted to feel desperately sad that this was happening. Her best friend as a child and as a teenager, Amy, had gone through her own parents’ divorce, and at the time Maya had thought it was the worst thing she could ever imagine. But that was before everything had changed.
Sometimes it was hard to believe it had only been fifteen months ago that her world had fallen apart. It had been the day of what was supposed to be her final band recital for the year. She’d had a solo, and she had been practicing non-stop for weeks. The night before, she had been out in the backyard, practicing one last time, when she had heard the creak of the back door. Her father had come home early from his business trip.
“I couldn’t miss your band recital!” he’d said. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with the regret.”
She’d thought he was being overdramatic, but he had been working a lot and he had flown home just for her so she had kept her thoughts to herself. He’d asked her then if he could take her and Amy to breakfast in the morning and drop them off. It had been a sweet offer, and she had told him so.
But in the morning, her father had still been sleeping, worn out from his trip home. And Amy had already texted to say she was on the way.
“I could wake him up,” her mother had offered, but Maya had shaken her head.
“Tell Dad I’ll see him tonight!”
Thirty minutes later, after a quick stop at the local donut store, Amy and Maya were waiting at the red light of a busy intersection, stopped beside an 18-wheeler they could barely see around. They were laughing and chatting, and the light turned green.
They didn’t see the truck that ran the red light, not until it plowed into them, not until it was too late.
Maya’s dad took Amy’s death almost harder than she did. It was like he blamed himself for not driving them or taking them to breakfast first. And to make up for it, he didn’t want to let Maya out of his sight. He wanted to drive her everywhere, keep her from spending time anywhere where he wasn’t also with her. It was overbearing. She felt like she was suffocating.
And oddly enough, he seemed to blame her mom too, for turning off the alarm even though Maya had said it was okay.
But blame was everywhere in their house these days. Blame and grief and the death of a life they’d all had the day before the accident.
And now she was here, watching her parents fight for what she knew was the final time of their marriage. Her mom was going to leave. And Maya was going to what? Split time between the two of them until she went to college? If she went to college that is. Her grades this year had nose-dived.
Maya sighed. Sometimes she felt like she had been the one who was supposed to die that day. Sometimes she wished she could go back, to wake her dad up that morning, to change the course of fate.
Her parents’ voices were getting even louder, and Maya couldn’t bear to listen anymore. She closed the door, turning around to face her room, but she felt weird all of a sudden. Lightheaded. And her room seemed to be shrouded in fog. Except she wasn’t in her room anymore but in the kitchen, and she was holding her flute — the flute that had been destroyed fifteen months ago — in her hands.
She gasped and almost dropped it.
“Maya, sweetheart, be careful.” She whirled around to see her mother behind her, dressed in that ugly orange robe she had been wearing that morning. “Is Amy on her way?”
Maya stared at her. Was this really happening?
“Dad?” she asked tentatively.
“Sleeping,” her mother answered. “I turned off the alarm, but I can wake him up if you really want.”
Did she really want?
It is your time of choosing. Stay here, or go back.
“Wake him up please,” she said.
--
Breakfast was rushed after their late start but delicious. Her dad took them to a little café down the street from the band hall that had the best cinnamon rolls in town. He still looked tired, even after his three cups of coffee, and he hadn’t bothered to shave or brush his hair, but he seemed relieved that Maya had her mom wake him up.
He drove them the back way from the café to the band hall — Maya had suggested it, so they avoided the big intersection, and her dad had no problem with it.
She and Amy were getting out of the car, reaching for their instruments, when she saw her dad answer his phone. She smiled at him and blew him a kiss and then shut the car door behind her.
She and Amy headed inside. She felt like a huge, horrible weight that she hadn’t known she was carrying had been lifted from her shoulders. She wanted to laugh and skip and sing and dance and cry and make so much beautiful music from her beautiful flute, and she wanted to put her arms around Amy and never let her go.
They were almost to the door of the band hall when she heard his anguish cry.
“Maya!”
Maya whirled around. Her dad was standing on the sidewalk, about fifty yards away. He had left the door to the car open. His face was pale, and he looked like he was shaking.
“Dad?” she whispered. She felt like all the air in her lungs was suddenly gone.
He held out his phone to her, and was he … was he crying?
“Dad?” she said again.
“There’s been an accident,” he said. His voice was so quiet, she could barely hear him. Except his words were already ringing in her ears.
She didn’t want him to go on, she didn’t want him to continue.
“Don’t say it,” she said.
“It’s your mom,” he said. “She’s dead.”
Fiction.
This was written for the new season of
therealljidol, Wheel of Chaos! If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me and all of the other amazing contestants. You can find all the entries here. Look for the voting post on Friday night!
