Families is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.
How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.
How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.
To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.Show less
I have never been more shocked then I was that morning when I walked into my daughter's bedroom. Nothing in my life had ever prepared me for such a horrific sight. In my eyes, the blood seemed to consume the entire room. When in reality, the bed where my daughter's lifeless body lay consumed the most blood.
The floor around her bed had small pools of blood. It looked like someone had taken a can of paint and painted a bunch of tiny circles on her floor. This must be from where it had run down from her body to the bed, then unto the floor.
In the slowest motion possible, I started to walk closer to her bed. My feet wouldn't go any faster, it was like coffee cans of dried cement were tied to my ankles. Maybe, just maybe, I kept thinking, this was just a nightmare and I would wake up at any moment. That is all this was, a horrible and heartbreaking nightmare.
As I approached her bed, my thoughts were a jumbled mess. She is going to be late for school I thought. Then I wondered if I was supposed to call someone, maybe the police? The reality of what I knew to be true just didn't want to sink in yet. Perhaps my eyes are just playing tricks on me, and what lied before me is not what it seems to be at all.
The horror of what is ahead of me was starting to make my heart squeeze. It was as if a weight trainer had my heart in his hand and was squeezing as tight as he could.
I am playing with the concept that this isn't really happening. That I was just experiencing an out of body experience. Why not? People talk about them all the time.
It has been just the two of us against the world for so long. Her father had left us one night long ago. Said that he was going down the street to the corner store to buy some cigarettes, but he never returned. She was only two at the time, fourteen years later we had become a united team.
I was almost to her bed now. Her bed was only fifteen steps from the door. This small journey it seemed, was taking me hours to complete. My need for not facing the truth kept me from rushing towards her.
I could smell the blood. Did you know that blood had a smell? I never did, and now I wish that I didn't. It smelled of hopelessness and deep anguish. A lack of ability to change what was happening.
My face was so wet with tears. I hadn't even realized that I was crying. The tears were flowing down my cheeks, my chin, and onto my nightshirt. They were silent tears, at least I couldn't hear them. Nobody in this room could hear them.
What confuses me the most is the previous night had been so great. I had gotten off work early, she was already home from school. We usually went out on Friday nights to our favorite restaurant, but she had texted me earlier saying she had aced her final exam in Biology. This was a celebration dinner. She had studied so hard for that final and no good deed goes unrewarded.
She was dressed and waiting in the kitchen when I got home. Looking at her, I have to say she is so beautiful, inside and out. I am so blessed to have her in my life, I can't begin to even imagine what life would be like without her.
I ran upstairs to my room to change. I changed out of my suit and heels into my jeans and more comfortable shoes. She was waiting by the door when I walked back down with a big smile on her face." Happy to see me?" I joked with her.
"Funny mom, I am starving!" We locked up the house and jumped into the car and were off.
Dinner was great as always. We ate the same thing every time, salads and pizza. We always ate the salads first so we wouldn't feel so guilty about the greasy pizza. We got everything on the pizza, well not the little fishes.
We talked about her Biology final and the boy at school that she liked. Tommy was his name, old-fashioned sounding to me, but to hear her talk, he'd hung the moon and the stars. She asked if she could stay at her girlfriend's house this weekend. I, of course, said yes as she knew I would.
Looking back on that night, I can't recall any signs that would have warned me of her plans. Everything seemed so normal to me. We had laughed and talked, and as usual, ate too much food. Not a single memory of the previous night would have prepared me for this morning.
I was only two steps away from her now. So much blood, how could that little body of hers have so much blood? I made the last two steps and just stared at her. The tears continued to flow down my face. Even in her death, she was beautiful, such a peaceful look on her face. Her eyes were closed, so I could not see those baby blues of hers.
I just couldn't comprehend this. 'Why was this happening?' is all I could think. I know that nobody could answer me, so it was just a thought, not a question I expected to be answered. Nobody could hear my silent tears either. They were no longer silent tears but had turned into heart reaching sobs. I know I couldn't deny the acceptance any longer. My baby, my beautiful baby was gone.
I slowly reached down and grabbed her arm that was closest to me. Her arm was still so wet from the cut on her wrist. I then found myself climbing into the bed with her. I laid down beside her and pulled her body into my arms. I held onto her so tight. I just continued to rock us back and forth. As we rocked, I kept asking her why? knowing that my question would never be answered.
Somewhere in my mind, I thought if I held onto her long enough, my life would seep into hers. Eventually, I became aware of my senses. The sun was lighting her room angrily through the blinds. The sound of the phone ringing in the distance had finally stopped. The calls were either the school or the office wondering where we both were." We are in hear!" I shouted, but nobody had heard me.
My nightshirt was damp from the tears and the blood. I was beginning to feel a chill, or maybe it was just her body starting to cool. I knew I needed to get up and let her go. I needed to make calls and clean myself up. I didn't want to move. I knew that when I did move, I would never hold my baby again. It was too hard to move, to hard to let her go.
I leaned back onto her bedpost still gently holding her in my arms. I looked down at her now, the blood had long since dried. I saw that she had somehow managed to cut both of her wrists. The pain that had to of caused her. I saw the blades scattered on the floor and nightstand that had taken her life.
I just couldn't feel anymore, I was spent. I leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead and cheeks. I hugged her lifeless body one last time, and ever so gently laid her back down and scooted myself off her bed.
I left her than to make the necessary calls.