Word Count: 829
But she was so young.
She stood in my doorway, the social worker’s car disappearing down the road, leaving her alone with me. Her pitifully small suitcase--containing the meager things she owned--rested on the floor beside her. I took a deep breath, pulling my thoughts together. This felt overwhelming, but I had to try my best.
She’s too young. Too young…
My eyes took in the black cloud around her, twisting like smoke, a faint chill accompanying it. It normally surrounded people who walked alone with a sad drag to their step, and a broken expression on their face, and yet here it floated lazily around a child as she gazed listlessly at me, her eyes dull, her mouth turned down at the corners.
I called it the cloud of grief. Why I could see it, I’m not sure. It felt like an invasion of privacy when the most bubbly and seemly happy people had the thickest clouds. Often times shapes and images would appear in the smoky wisps, explaining what had caused the sadness.
I focused on the girl herself once again.
“Hello.” I managed to breathe. What was I doing? I didn’t know anything about children. My thoughts faltered and a wisp of black curled along my arm, similar to the cloud around the child.
“What are you staring at?” she demanded as my gaze once again swept the cloud surrounding her.
“I’m Mr. Collin.” Dodging her question, I forced myself to smile and took a step toward her. “And, um, I’m excited that you’re here!” I thrust some enthusiasm into my voice even though I wanted to curl into a ball at the sight of the black wisps slowly growing around me.
Christie wouldn’t want me to linger on what I’ve lost, but to focus on what I have. My eyes met the girl’s. They were a deep, thoughtful brown. Just like Christie’s. She would want this. Tears pricked my eyes, the cloud thickened around me.
“Are you okay?” The child’s voice was gentle, and she looked more engaged than she had a moment ago. My eyes widened as I saw her cloud thin slightly.
“Um, yeah.”
She slowly turned in a few circles to take in the entryway, taking the sight of my house and sighed quietly.
“Like the house?” I managed. “What was your name again?” I knew her name, but for the sake of evading heavy silence, I asked her anyway.
“Emily Williams.” She stepped over to the hallway table to study a picture of Christie and me. “She’s pretty.” She pointed to my wife in the photograph and turned to smile at me.
“She is,” I agreed quietly and felt the cloud of darkness thicken around me.
“Where is she?” Emily asked.
Everyone was always telling me to let go. She’d been gone for four years; it was time to move on! But I couldn’t just move on. Christie was part of me, always knowing how to make a situation better, always brilliant at...everything, it felt. I was trying to move forward! I had Emily standing here as proof and so far, it was going terribly wrong. I opened my mouth to speak but faltered. Where is she? Did I have to answer right now? She’s just a kid. She’s just curious. She needed a chance at a better life.
But I might never give anyone a chance ever again. What if they all succumbed to the fate that had ripped me apart, as well?
The black cloud billowed ferociously, no longer a simple few smoke-like whisps. It was feeding on my sorrow and grief as the bottled feelings within me coiled tighter, refusing to leave me in peace. But I wanted to be strong for Emily.
Again, I forced myself to focus and started to notice small images within her thin cloud. I could make out the need for a father who was never there and a mother who didn’t care for a quality life for herself or her daughter.
So maybe, maybe this child understood how I felt.
“Mr. Collin?” Something pierced the enveloping cloud as a small hand slipped into mine.
I took a deep breath and looked down at her.
“Where is she?”
“Not here anymore,” I whispered.
“Not here anymore like…dead?” She understood.
The darkness receded some. “Dead,” I breathed. “But look, you’re here.” I closed my hand around hers. “So…”
“So, we don’t have to be sad?” She beamed up at me.
“No, we don’t.” The darkness inside me lighted just a little. It wouldn’t be easy to move on, but having a purpose was better than doing nothing. I wanted to be here for Emily instead of feeling sorry for myself.
“I won’t be sad if you won’t be sad.”
I managed to smile back. “That sounds good.”
“Can I see my room now?”
I chuckled. “I’ve got it already for you.” I gently tugged her hand and guided her down the hall.
She stood in my doorway, the social worker’s car disappearing down the road, leaving her alone with me. Her pitifully small suitcase--containing the meager things she owned--rested on the floor beside her. I took a deep breath, pulling my thoughts together. This felt overwhelming, but I had to try my best.
She’s too young. Too young…
My eyes took in the black cloud around her, twisting like smoke, a faint chill accompanying it. It normally surrounded people who walked alone with a sad drag to their step, and a broken expression on their face, and yet here it floated lazily around a child as she gazed listlessly at me, her eyes dull, her mouth turned down at the corners.
I called it the cloud of grief. Why I could see it, I’m not sure. It felt like an invasion of privacy when the most bubbly and seemly happy people had the thickest clouds. Often times shapes and images would appear in the smoky wisps, explaining what had caused the sadness.
I focused on the girl herself once again.
“Hello.” I managed to breathe. What was I doing? I didn’t know anything about children. My thoughts faltered and a wisp of black curled along my arm, similar to the cloud around the child.
“What are you staring at?” she demanded as my gaze once again swept the cloud surrounding her.
“I’m Mr. Collin.” Dodging her question, I forced myself to smile and took a step toward her. “And, um, I’m excited that you’re here!” I thrust some enthusiasm into my voice even though I wanted to curl into a ball at the sight of the black wisps slowly growing around me.
Christie wouldn’t want me to linger on what I’ve lost, but to focus on what I have. My eyes met the girl’s. They were a deep, thoughtful brown. Just like Christie’s. She would want this. Tears pricked my eyes, the cloud thickened around me.
“Are you okay?” The child’s voice was gentle, and she looked more engaged than she had a moment ago. My eyes widened as I saw her cloud thin slightly.
“Um, yeah.”
She slowly turned in a few circles to take in the entryway, taking the sight of my house and sighed quietly.
“Like the house?” I managed. “What was your name again?” I knew her name, but for the sake of evading heavy silence, I asked her anyway.
“Emily Williams.” She stepped over to the hallway table to study a picture of Christie and me. “She’s pretty.” She pointed to my wife in the photograph and turned to smile at me.
“She is,” I agreed quietly and felt the cloud of darkness thicken around me.
“Where is she?” Emily asked.
Everyone was always telling me to let go. She’d been gone for four years; it was time to move on! But I couldn’t just move on. Christie was part of me, always knowing how to make a situation better, always brilliant at...everything, it felt. I was trying to move forward! I had Emily standing here as proof and so far, it was going terribly wrong. I opened my mouth to speak but faltered. Where is she? Did I have to answer right now? She’s just a kid. She’s just curious. She needed a chance at a better life.
But I might never give anyone a chance ever again. What if they all succumbed to the fate that had ripped me apart, as well?
The black cloud billowed ferociously, no longer a simple few smoke-like whisps. It was feeding on my sorrow and grief as the bottled feelings within me coiled tighter, refusing to leave me in peace. But I wanted to be strong for Emily.
Again, I forced myself to focus and started to notice small images within her thin cloud. I could make out the need for a father who was never there and a mother who didn’t care for a quality life for herself or her daughter.
So maybe, maybe this child understood how I felt.
“Mr. Collin?” Something pierced the enveloping cloud as a small hand slipped into mine.
I took a deep breath and looked down at her.
“Where is she?”
“Not here anymore,” I whispered.
“Not here anymore like…dead?” She understood.
The darkness receded some. “Dead,” I breathed. “But look, you’re here.” I closed my hand around hers. “So…”
“So, we don’t have to be sad?” She beamed up at me.
“No, we don’t.” The darkness inside me lighted just a little. It wouldn’t be easy to move on, but having a purpose was better than doing nothing. I wanted to be here for Emily instead of feeling sorry for myself.
“I won’t be sad if you won’t be sad.”
I managed to smile back. “That sounds good.”
“Can I see my room now?”
I chuckled. “I’ve got it already for you.” I gently tugged her hand and guided her down the hall.