Loss

Part One: Shock

         I laid, perfectly content in a room just big enough to hold my thoughts. The bright colors of the possessions I held dear surrounded me in an uplifting aura. The world, and everything touching me was held together in perfect balance.
         Peaceful piano melodies danced into my ear through the earphones my mother had gotten me.
         I felt pure bliss.
         I didn’t hear the front door open. No one else should have been home for a while. Mom had left to run errands that would take all day, and Dad was supposed to be working.
         I didn’t hear the sobs of my father, or the cup shattering on the floor.
         I was in a world where everything was in harmony, and life was so full of hope.
         Dad opened my door, in a way that was slow, but strained. The serenity in the air quickly escaped through the opening.
         I sat up, startled.
         His eyes were red and face swollen.
         “Vivian…” He started.
         Hesitantly, I reached to my ear and removed a single earphone, not wanting to let the moment break away from me. I brought the earphone to my chest, holding it there as if my heart could listen and relax its quickening pace.
         Dad was breathing heavily, choking as he tried to slow it.
         He had always appeared so strong, a sturdy rock to grasp onto whenever I felt like I was falling over. His broken appearance frightened me.
         He quavered and stumbled over to my bed, where he sat beside me, on the side where I still had an earphone in.
         I slowly turned to face him, biting my lip.
         He was looking down, clutching onto the sheets.
         He opened his mouth, and a broken sound escaped. Clearing his throat, he struggled to form words.
         “Vivian…” He whispered my name again, as if he had forgotten how to speak.
         There was a deafening silence in the room, and I swear I could he his heart struggling to support him.
         “Jess got in a car accident.”
         The silence was broken.
         He gasped for air. I held my breath.
         Jess was my mom’s name; I had never heard her addressed by it, though. She was always “mom” to me.
         “She didn’t make it.” Dad quickly whimpered.
         The sound of pianos got louder, sickeningly peaceful.
         He struggled to breath. Tears were now freely streaming down his face. He buried his face in his hands.
         I stared at his hunched over figure in disbelief as a lump began to form in my throat.
         I opened my mouth, but all that I managed to force out was a soft “What?”
         Dad turned to look in my eyes, the first time he was able to.
         His mouth moved. I could tell he was shouting painfully, but all I could hear was music and the sound of my heart beating.
         As the reality began to sink in, I felt like I wasn’t getting enough air. I kept trying to take in more, but it wouldn’t refresh my body. The walls swayed back and forth and my palms got sweaty.
         Dad hugged me hastily, a futile attempt at comforting me. Standing, he avoided my stare and left the room.
         He went to his room, where he would stay behind a closed door.
         Alone, I turned off my mp3 player and, with a shaking hand, placed it on my bedside table.
         I laid back down, my eyes wide open and dry.
         I could hear things breaking from the other end of the house.
         I clenched my eyes shut, trying to pretend this wasn’t real, but the noises only got louder.

WIP, to be continued. I know It's not much yet, but some constructive criticism or just letting me know what you think would really help me out. Much love.