The Broken Girl...Prologue
Hey guys, so this is my first story, so please comment with your honest opinion! I won't take it personally! Let me know if I should continue, or if you want a character summary :)
When I was little, I had this image in my head of how life was supposed to be. My mom and dad were going to take care of me until I grew up and got married to a handsome man who worked in an office, and I would stay at home and clean and take care of the kids. I would take them to see their aunt Payson at the family cafe and their grandparents would spoil them with presents every chance they got. That’s just how it worked.
It’s easy to think that life goes by with no surprises. That everything can be predicted by the mind of a 7-year-old child. That all you know then is all you’ll ever have to know to get through life. That you can stay that innocent, that unbreakable, forever. But everyday you spend thinking that way, is a day you could have known what was really coming. Death. Tragedy. Pain. If I had known it was possible to loose so much in one moment, in a lifetime, it wouldn’t have burned as much as it did. It wouldn’t have struck me so hard. It wouldn’t have stolen as much of myself away from me. I would have been prepared for that image of how life was supposed to be to dissolve from my mind, and slowly turn into reality.
I remember the day, the week, like I relive it everyday. I was 10 years old, in the fourth grade. I was called out of class and walked down to the office, where my mom’s best friend, Sarah, was standing. She gave me a long, warm hug. I could tell she was holding back tears.
"Aunt Sarah, what are you doing here? School doesn’t end for another few hours, and Mama is supposed to pick me up." I laughed. I thought it was funny.
She forced a faint smile and hugged me again. Brookie, Mama can’t come today."
"What happened? Did she and Daddy miss their flight?" They had gone to a business seminar in New York for the day.
"No baby", she mumbled, pulling my hair out of my face, "Come here." She took my hand and pulled me out of the office, giving the secretary a look that I couldn’t figure out. She mouthed, "I’m sorry", through her chapped lips. I glanced over and saw the principal standing in the door of her office. She looked down, as if scared to look me in the eyes. Sarah and I walked out the door.
"Baby, your mama and daddy’s plane never arrived at the airport." She looked down, the same way Principal Rylie did. "It, umm, it didn’t make it."
"What do you mean? Did they decide to stay in New York? They were tired, right?" It had happened before, I thought.
"No, Brookie it left New York, but it---"
"OH, so it ran out of gas and had to land somewhere else. That’s what happened when we went to…" I stopped when she finally looked me in the eyes.
"Brooklyn, the plane crashed." She said, and tears started to inch down her cheeks, "They’re gone, baby." She was sobbing now her arms clenched around me again, but I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel anything.
The next few days are nothing to me. The church service, the funeral, and the burial. It seems selfish, I know. But all they did was waste 3 days that I could have been with them. All they did was force me to say goodbye to the two people that I should have been there to watch me get married, and spoil their grandkids. But that wasn’t how life just worked anymore.
I moved in with my sister Payson. She was just 19 at the time. She insisted I stay with her, that no one could separate us. She knew it would be hard, but she didn’t want to loose anything else, and for me, she was the only person that reminded me there is such a thing as real family.
"We’re going to make it Brookie", she’d tell me everyday, and being a 10-year-old child, I believed her. It was easy to think that all I knew then was all I’d have to know to get through life. Life’s not that simple.
It’s easy to think that life goes by with no surprises. That everything can be predicted by the mind of a 7-year-old child. That all you know then is all you’ll ever have to know to get through life. That you can stay that innocent, that unbreakable, forever. But everyday you spend thinking that way, is a day you could have known what was really coming. Death. Tragedy. Pain. If I had known it was possible to loose so much in one moment, in a lifetime, it wouldn’t have burned as much as it did. It wouldn’t have struck me so hard. It wouldn’t have stolen as much of myself away from me. I would have been prepared for that image of how life was supposed to be to dissolve from my mind, and slowly turn into reality.
I remember the day, the week, like I relive it everyday. I was 10 years old, in the fourth grade. I was called out of class and walked down to the office, where my mom’s best friend, Sarah, was standing. She gave me a long, warm hug. I could tell she was holding back tears.
"Aunt Sarah, what are you doing here? School doesn’t end for another few hours, and Mama is supposed to pick me up." I laughed. I thought it was funny.
She forced a faint smile and hugged me again. Brookie, Mama can’t come today."
"What happened? Did she and Daddy miss their flight?" They had gone to a business seminar in New York for the day.
"No baby", she mumbled, pulling my hair out of my face, "Come here." She took my hand and pulled me out of the office, giving the secretary a look that I couldn’t figure out. She mouthed, "I’m sorry", through her chapped lips. I glanced over and saw the principal standing in the door of her office. She looked down, as if scared to look me in the eyes. Sarah and I walked out the door.
"Baby, your mama and daddy’s plane never arrived at the airport." She looked down, the same way Principal Rylie did. "It, umm, it didn’t make it."
"What do you mean? Did they decide to stay in New York? They were tired, right?" It had happened before, I thought.
"No, Brookie it left New York, but it---"
"OH, so it ran out of gas and had to land somewhere else. That’s what happened when we went to…" I stopped when she finally looked me in the eyes.
"Brooklyn, the plane crashed." She said, and tears started to inch down her cheeks, "They’re gone, baby." She was sobbing now her arms clenched around me again, but I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel anything.
The next few days are nothing to me. The church service, the funeral, and the burial. It seems selfish, I know. But all they did was waste 3 days that I could have been with them. All they did was force me to say goodbye to the two people that I should have been there to watch me get married, and spoil their grandkids. But that wasn’t how life just worked anymore.
I moved in with my sister Payson. She was just 19 at the time. She insisted I stay with her, that no one could separate us. She knew it would be hard, but she didn’t want to loose anything else, and for me, she was the only person that reminded me there is such a thing as real family.
"We’re going to make it Brookie", she’d tell me everyday, and being a 10-year-old child, I believed her. It was easy to think that all I knew then was all I’d have to know to get through life. Life’s not that simple.
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