Page 56
Flashing red and blue lights fill the street. Strangers speak in serious voices while others gather around me, their faces shocked and devastated.
Someone wraps a blanket around my shoulders and guides me toward an ambulance. I look back at Mom, but I can no longer see her face.
Wake up, Mom.
Get up, Mom.
But she doesn’t.
A woman in a blue uniform crouches beside her, jotting something in a notebook while two police officers stand nearby.
One shakes his head. The other looks angry.
I can hear them from where I stand.
“Poor woman.”
The other one is holding a small envelope that fell from my mom’s purse. He looks at the writing on it and whispers:“Stephy’s Christmas.” He tears open the envelope and looks inside. “Fuck. The money was for the kid’s Christmas present.”
The other cop rubs his face. “Christ. Poor kid.”
Then they both look at me. They look at me like I am something broken that will never be the same again.
They are right.
The policewoman walks over and kneels down in front of me. Her voice sounds soft and sad when she speaks. “Hi, sweetheart.”
I don’t answer her. I can’t find my voice.
When I say nothing, she gently takes my hand in hers. “We’re going to take care of you, okay?”
I ignore her and look past her at the bloodstained snow where Mom lies.
I don’t understand everything yet but I understand one awful thing.
My Mom isn’t coming with me. She’s gone forever.
I am alone.
“No.”
The policewoman picks me up, walks me over to the cop car and gently closes the car door.
“No.”
I push against the glass but it won’t open. “Mom!” I scream until my throat hurts and until I have no tears left.
Outside, snow continues falling and the world keeps moving while a stranger covers my mother’s body with a white sheet.
“No! Please, no.”
I slam my fists against the window but nobody hears me.
My mother never stands up.
She’s gone.
And I?
