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The last part of my short story, excerpts from an old woman's diary. |
November 20, 1971 Well, today was the day. Bobbie and Angela were leaving. Bobbie had even gotten another apartment already, so I was forced to face that they really were leaving. It wasn't some strange dream I could wake up from, like I had tried to convince myself. Loading the last of their boxes into the U-Haul she had rented, some little part of me hoped that maybe the deal on the apartment would for some reason, fall through, even though she had already signed the papers. I knew she was doing what was best for Angela, but I was selfish and I didn't want them to leave. For my own reasons. “Well, that's everything,” said Bobbie with a strained smile. “Yeah, everything,” I said, trying to summon up a smile to go with Bobbie's. What came out was more of a grimace than a smile. Just then Angela came bounding out of the house. We had finally convinced her that they were going on an adventure. “Come on mom, it's time to go. We're on a schedule here. No time to dally.” Bobbie laughed, her first real laugh since she had told us that they were moving. “Alright, say goodbye to Martie, and we'll be on our way.” We may have convinced Angela, but I had yet to convince Bobbie that they were going on an adventure. Angela looked at me with a sad smile, and I realized that Angela was a better actor than I had given her credit for. She knew she was dying. She knew exactly what was going on, that the disease that forced her to have braces on her legs was slowly eating away at the rest of her body. She could feel it. So much older than her age, I thought, not for the first time. “Bye bye, Martie.” There was a final tone to her voice. She gave me a hug, and shoved something into my hand in the process. I held on until she pulled away, just a little child. Bobbie reached out and took my hand, then pulled me into a bear hug. She pulled back, shot me a sad look and walked quickly toward the U-Haul. When they were both in, Bobbie started the engine. I started waving as they drove away down the street, and didn't stop until they were out of sight. I hadn't cried when they left, but when I looked down at the paper Angela had given me, I started crying. Sitting down on the curb, I cried until the tears ran out. On the paper, in red crayon, were two stick figures and the words Me and God love you. |