Those Last Two Words

by B.B.

It all happened the Summer before third grade when I was eight years old. My parents had to work so we stayed home those holidays, home in Washington D.C. the city where I was born. I still remember everything about that Summer; the smells of smoke with a mixture of the perfume of flowers from peoples' backyards; I remember the traffic on a normal day of work, the light at night from the offices and the stars which shone so brightly.  

That same Summer a friend came to visit me from Italy with her family. I was so happy and I knew nothing could ruin that moment. This was a special moment as it was the last time I would see her for a long time because she was moving to Vancouver for her father's job. I was happy just like children are on Christmas day opening the gifts beneath the Christmas tree. That moment ended as I watched her take the plane to Vancouver. I knew I would see her again but I wondered when that would be, I knew it wouldn't be soon.

A couple of weeks later, I knew something was wrong just by looking at how my parents acted around me. They kept asking me if I was okay and they took me to my favorite restaurant in Washington D.C. They were really strange. You know how some people are when they want to tell you something but are nervous about how you will react. That was how my parents were acting that week, until ... It was a Saturday and as soon as I woke up my parents told me that they wanted to talk to me. Their faces were red and they looked like they were about to cry, I could sense it from the tone in their voices and the dullness in their eyes.

They brought me inside a room, it was dark in there because the curtains were covering the windows and the light was switched off. Although I could hear the sound of the cars, it wasn't too noisy as it was Saturday. I can still taste the smell in the air of that moment. It was a mixture of my sister's perfume and smelly socks. All I could think about was why my parents wanted to talk to me. Did I do something wrong? Why were they acting so nervously?

The more they waited to tell me, the more I worried. My palms were sweating and my eyes were blinking and I was scared like the moments just before an exam. Then I saw something moving, it was my mom's lips, she was talking but the only thing I heard were the last two words. Those last two words were so strong that it felt like someone had taken the room and spun it so fast that I felt like I was going to faint. My head was about to explode and my legs were about to buckle. Those last two words were repeating themselves over and over they were echoing from the ceiling and bouncing off the walls. Something struck me, I'm not sure what it was but it was powerful, like someone had punched me in the face, like they lined me up and just knocked me down ... I knew nothing would be the same ever again.

I was a child and nothing I thought about was important. I thought only about myself, just like every other eight year old does. Every year when the day comes around, in my head I hear the same two words ...‘she’s gone’.