Brave Tears By Wren aylapolgara@hotmail.com ------- SUMMARY: Life can always get worse. Original short story writen for a class. Angst RATING: PG-13 DISTRIBUTION: Just lemme know. No one has yet.FEEDBACK: Is welcome. ------- Karen clicked the remote control repeatedly, there was nothing on television, there was never anything on. Sighing to herself she stopped at the news channel, turned the volume up as loud as she could, and tossed the remote control onto the couch. Shouts and screams could still be heard over the noisy television set, her parents were at it again; they never stopped. Her mother slept in again all day today, and she had only awakened when dad had gone into the room asking about dinner. "Dinner?" Mom had repeated. "I dunno there must be something in the 'fridge." Her speech was slurred. Last night she had stayed up late drinking beer and watching movies. Karen had found her passed out on the couch when she came down that morning. "There's nothing in the 'fridge, Sara, no one has gone shopping this week." Dad's voice got louder. "Well what do you want me to do about it?!" Mom had started yelling, Karen listened to her footsteps stomp out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. Dad's heavier footsteps had followed her though and the arguments had continued there and then back to the bedroom. The whole time Karen had sat numbly on the couch, listening to the scene play itself out as it did everyday after school. Most days she ended up weeping silently to herself on the couch while her parents argued, oblivious to her own depression. Kids at school knew she was different, she was softer spoken then her classmates and kept to herself. They sought out her difference and fed off of it; making cruel jokes about her behind her back and to her face. Some days she pretended things were different. She would come home from her good little Catholic middle school where all of the other students liked and respected her. Her 'loving parents' would ask her how her day was and have dinner already prepared. Then, after dinner, dad would watch the evening news as she helped mom was the dishes. She and mom would talk about school, boys, and daily events. There were never any tears in these fantasies. But then reality would set in with the first angry shout. Things had always been that way. At home mom would drink herself into a stupor each night, blaming her father for all of her problems. Despite the fact that they lived in a nice middle-class home and had all the luxuries her father's middle-class salary could afford. Dad would go into a rage every night about dinner not being cooked or the house not being clean, almost ignoring that fact that his wife was just then getting up with a hangover, blaming it on her laziness. Karen was left to clean up the mess afterwards, whether it was simply locking the doors and turning off the lights or picking up broken glass and running a mop over the floor. A crash and sudden silence brought her attention back to the activities going on upstairs. She switched the television off as she hesitantly stood up. Her eyes traveled up the stairs, mom and dad had broken things before but it was normally followed by them yelling blame on each other. This time only silence echoed from the room. Half afraid of what was going on upstairs, but knowing that she should investigate, she made her way up the stairs from the living room. "Mom? Dad? You guys okay?" She peered around their adjacent door into their room. There were books and clothes lying in heaps on the ground. Picture frames were turned over and a chair was lying on its side next to the dresser surrounded by broken glass from the mirror. On the bed her father had his arms wrapped around her mother's arms as if to restrain her slightly twitching body. There was blood coming from her mother's wrists forming a deep red stain on the sheets around them. He lifted his head to let his shocked eyes meet her confused eyes. "Karen.." His gaze drifted back down to her mother's body. Her mother's eyes stared accusingly at him but she seemed to have lost the will to fight. As if coming back from a trance, his shoulders snapped up and he looked her in the face again. "Call 9-1-1, and bring me the phone, hurry!" Karen looked from her father to her mother, realization dawning on her. There was blood coming out of her mother's wrists; she had tried to take her own life. She ran out of the room and downstairs to the cordless phone. Quickly dialing 9-1-1, she ran back upstairs of find her father trying desperately to apply pressure to her mother's wrists. "9-1-1, what is your emergency?" Karen jumped slightly as a woman's voice came through the phone. She handed the phone to her father, not trusting her own voice. ------- The smell of baking cookies filled her nose as she walked through the front door. Smiling happily she threw her backpack onto the couch and ran into the kitchen. "Ma! You're here!" Karen threw herself into her grandmother's arms longing to feel love to replace the emptiness inside. Last night the police had shown up at the door after an ambulance had taken her mother away. Her father had had to sit there and tell them what happened instead of going immediately to the hospital. The officers had also questioned her briefly; she had not been in the room so she couldn't tell them very much. Once they had left, her father had told her he was going to the hospital; she had merely nodded and gone to her room. She was expected to be the strong one once again; the one left to deal with the mess while he wouldn't even let her see her mother. She had woken up that morning to an empty house. She showered and fixed her own breakfast, the numb feeling inside her had been growing all night and the fact that no one was there only helped it grow. Her father had arrived to take her to school and told her that her mother was going to be fine. Getting herself ready for school without anyone else around was nothing new but the looks of the children were. They had all heard, some of them had probably seen, her mother being taken away to the hospital. There was no teasing that day, the principle had called her into his office to tell her that her father had called to request she go home early, her grandmother would be waiting for her at home. "Didn't they tell you at school I would be here?" Her grandmother pulled away slightly to look down at her face. "Yes, but.." Karen sighed as she looked down, tears spilled down her cheeks. "Oh, Ma, there was so much blood!" Her grandmother pulled Karen to her and hugged her tightly as she cried. Karen cried for all of the blood and for all of the fights. She hung on to her grandmother as she sought desperately to release the pain she had hidden for all of those years. "Shh, its okay Karen, it's going to be okay. Your mother is fine; they're just going to keep her in the hospital for a couple of days that's all. I told your father not to make you go to school but he said you would be fine. I swear someone switched babies on me at the hospital, that man has no sense in his head!" Through the tears Karen smiled slightly, her grandmother was always on her side. She was the oldest of the grandchildren and the most favored. She and her grandmother always got along and she cherished the visits to her house. They would bake cookies or look through some of her grandmother's new dolls. She could escape the harshness of her own life even if it was only for a second. Karen nodded slightly as she pulled back from her grandmother wiping the tears off her face. She put on her fearless face, the one she used much too often. "School wasn't that bad." "Ah, my brave girl." Her grandmother smiled down at her. "Want to help me with these cookies?" Karen pushed her feelings down inside; her grandmother was here and for just a little while she could pretend to be happy. Her sadness, hatred, and fears could wait till later. She wouldn't let her own selfish feelings hurt her grandmother; enough people in her house were in pain already. "Sure, Ma, what kind of cookies are you baking?" Her grandmother smiled at her and turned towards the oven. "I thought we'd make some peanut butter, they are your mother's favorite." Karen grimaced inwardly at the reference to her mother but smiled at her grandmother. "Cool, is the dough made already?" "Yes, all I need you to do is put balls of dough on the rest of these pans while I take the baked cookies out of the oven." "Sure thing, Ma!" Karen saluted her grandmother happily. She went to work on distributing balls of dough, trying to keep her mind off her mother. ------- "Karen, your mother is doing much better and the doctors say she can have visitors, but she is still on a lot of medications. Would you like to go see her today?" Her father stepped into her room still wearing his work clothes. He worked more and more these days and after that he spent hours at the hospital with her mother, leaving her at home by herself or with her grandmother. She cringed as she realized that now, a week after the "accident", her father was finally going to take her to see her mother. After that horrendous day, she had spent a lot of time with her grandmother or doing homework avoiding conversations with her father like the plague. Anytime she looked at him all she could see was the look on his face that night; his shocked eyes looking up at her as he held on to her mother. She didn't know why he stayed with her mother, surely there was grounds for divorce somewhere, and he spent most of his time there, at the hospital, with her mother. Not here, with Karen, where he belonged. Looking up at his face she realized he really wanted her to go. "Sure, dad, lemme just finish this assignment real quick." She bent back over her paper and didn't even see her father leave the room. "Okay, we'll leave in fifteen minutes," he called from downstairs. She stared at the paper as a spot of water appeared blurring the number she had written. She brought her hand to her face and angrily wiped the tears away, she would never let her mother see her cry. Her mother had tired to leave her; obviously she didn't care enough about her own daughter to even stay alive. She would never forgive her for that. Throwing her pen down she stood up and ran a brush through her hair. She would not let her mother see the pain she had caused her. She would put on a happy face and would never break down. Testing her smile in her reflection from the mirror she nodded in satisfaction and went upstairs to find her father. ------- The room was small and white. It smelled like one of the bathrooms at the gas station. Whoever said hospitals kept everything sterile and clean smelling had obviously lied. All of the doors on this wing had been shut; a tiny window offered the only view of the rooms. Her father had a nurse unlocked the door to her mother's room. She stood in the doorway of the "sterile room" staring at her mother. Or at least they told her that was her mother. The worn body lay there on the bed, tubes sticking out of its arms. Its eyes were closed and its hair hadn't been washed for days. There were bags under its closed eyes showing that it had had little sleep. There was no way that that thing was her mother. "Sara." Her father sat gently on the bed and reached to hold the body's hand gently. "Karen is here to see you." He turned his head to look at her, she felt him criticizing her with his eyes for not coming further into the room but she couldn't. She felt trapped like a deer in headlights, if she ran she knew he'd be upset but there was no way she would go any closer to that thing. She let her eyes fall on the shadows that the hospital bed made on the floor in the dim light, trying desperately to vanish from sight. Her mother must really be dead; they put that thing there in her place. "Karen, come say hello to your mother." His voice was hard as he stared at her. Hesitantly she stepped forward, slowly making her way towards the bed. The room was bare other then the bed, as if they thought that the body would use any type of furniture as a weapon. As she got closer she saw that the thing had opened its eyes and was staring at her. She averted her gaze and stood awkwardly next to the bed in front of her father. "Hi," she forced the word past her lips. Her mouth felt dry and she stood there fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. The only thing she wanted right then was to get out of that room. The stale air made her eyes water and the walls appeared as though they were closing in on her. The thing reached a hand out towards her and she tried to jump back only to find her father had stood up behind her. It wrapped cold thin fingers around her arm and squeezed it lightly - the touch alone almost made her gag. Its lips curled into somewhat of a snarl as it looked into her eyes. She stared back into the sunken sickly eyes; afraid that if she looked away the creature would break her arm or worse. "Hello, baby," it seemed to gurgle at her, spit coming out of its mouth. Karen's face turned into a grimace as she felt some of the saliva fall onto her arm. Maybe this wasn't real. She would wake up and find out she was still at home; that the last week had never happened. Her parents would still be arguing but her mother would never have tried to commit suicide. She would go to school every day the same way she always had, standing apart from the students instead of being pitied by them. A nurse walked in shattering her thoughts and causing the thing to drop its arm. She carried a tray of cups with pills in them and one long needle. "Time for meds, Sara," the nurse told the thing while smiling apologetically at her father, "Sorry, you'll have to leave." Her father smiled back at the nurse before turning back to the thing. "Sara, I'll be back tomorrow okay?" He stepped around Karen and kissed the thing gently on its head while she hurriedly walked backwards towards the door. Stepping into the hall she took a deep breath of the clean air, she had made it. She didn't know what might have happened if she hadn't gotten out of that room soon, but she was sure it wouldn't have been good. Rubbing her hand on her pants to try and get rid of the feeling of that thing's hand she waited for her father. He emerged from the room shortly after her and glared at her. "What was that all about Karen? She's your mother!" She ducked her face and ran past him towards the elevator. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation and she knew she didn't have an answer to his question. At least not an answer he'd accept. She turned around and watched him walk down the hallway towards her, frowning at her. He looked pale and thin, nowhere near the man he used to be. She cursed that thing in the bed for ruining her father. She would never forgive it.