Empty Space

Rushing through the bathroom door I scrambled to the glass mirror. My hands, like a wrecking ball, were knocking over bottles, looking for the orange container with the label reading “Take no more than one a day, if necessary.” To my surprise I found the bottle was not there. I slammed the mirror door closed, leaving a crack along the middle of the glass. I stormed into the next room over, and see my mom. She sat struck still on the floor, where in her hand lay the empty pill container. I stared at her with wide eyes wondering what had happened. I was in complete shock and had no idea what I was going to do. I tried to wake her up, but nothing had worked. I sat down next to her and held her hand. “Please Mom, wake up. I don’t know what I would do without you,” I told her. 

Tears ran down my face as I stare into my mom’s glistening eyes. They were like stars in the night sky. They stood out and shone bright. “What do I do Mom?” I asked her. 

They it came to me. Something I should have done earlier. I dialed the numbers on our wood wall telephone. Ring! Ring!

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

* * *

Three years later:

To this day I can never stop hearing the words, like sirens, yelling in my ears. “Honey, your too late. I’m sorry she’s not going to make it. Just seconds earlier and she could still be here today.” 

I am 15 now. Today marks three years since it had happened. October 31, Halloween day. I have been living with my Aunt, but it feels as if she never knew I existed. We’ve always been distant, and since I first moved in the only nice conversation we’ve had was about how I did on a test. I moved in with her the night of the incident. 

It used to be just me and my mom. She had always been my best friend. I knew I could talk to her and she would just listen. She never judged me for who I am. We were like two peas in a pod. We loved the same things and we were always together. We’ve always had the strongest connection. I never thought anything could ever break it. But I was wrong. Her death broke everything. 

I've always felt like a mistake. My Mom had me when she was just 16 and my dad left as soon as he found out. They didn’t mean to have me, I was just an accident. I felt unloved and forgotten and I thought that if I found my Father he would want to give me the affection I’ve always wanted. I had gotten into a fight with my aunt last night, and that had pushed me off edge. I thought if I found my Father he might want to take me in, and I could live like a happy family again. 

I went out that night, back to the old Victorian home, where I used to live with my mother. I was scared, but I knew nothing bad could happen. No one has been there since the death. Everything should be where I left it. I went in to search for my birth certificate. I was determined to find my Dad and I wasn't going to stop until I knew who he was. 

* * * 

I stepped into the house and my body filled with the essence of home. The floor tiles cracked beneath my feet as I walked through the doorway. My feet lead me to the room where is all happened. Knowing this has all been my fault the whole time, my brain seemed to be playing tricks with me. I walked into the bathroom and looked through the crack of the mirror. My brain froze with a white flash and I saw my mom on the floor the same way I did that night. I felt my legs moving with a mind of their own, closer to the body. “Mom?” I called. 

No answer. I reach out to hug her and feel my body phase right through the image. I hear a faint scream and my eyes open back up. My heart- now beating 10 times faster, felt like it was about to jump out of my chest. 

I yanked open the door to the master bedroom closet and found the box labeled Payton. It was buried under several dusty coats and gave off and ancient aura. I lifted the cap shuffled through the papers. On the bottom of the pile, lay my birth certificate. I stare at the paper with disbelief.  It read,

Payton Ainsley

Mother: Brenna Ainsley 

Father: Unknown. 

The empty space in my heart, still yet to be filled, burned inside my chest and stung to see those words. 

I walked back to my Aunts house with my head down to my feet. I came to realize my Dad would never love me anyway. If he cared even a little bit he would have visited me by now. He left, and that was it. No post cards, no updates, no nothing. He could even be dead and I wouldn't know it. Of course if he was, it's not like I would be missing more. I already have nothing. I’ve lost it all. I’ve have failing grades for the past three years, no friends to hang out with at school, and no family. My aunt is still here, and I appreciate her being there for me. She works hard to pay for my food, and takes care of me well. But she’s just not like family. She’s not like my mom. My mom was the most loving person on earth. She would always tell me “Be strong,” while she tucked me in bed. If only she were still here today. I could show her how strong I am. I would hug her tight like a teddy bear and I would tell her I love her.