I awoke to pitch blackness as I laid in my uneven bed; I could feel the bitter cold sheets on my skin, as I wrapped my fuzzy coral hued blanket around me for extra warmth. Every morning routine usually transpired the same, my mother would wake me up at six-thirty on the dot, just in time for school. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, the time read six twenty-nine— a minute til, but she didn’t make an appearance. I kept glancing at my phone, puzzled by the delay as hours moved along. Six thirty passed, then seven…then eight…then nine…I continued checking the time.
I heard a light knock at my bedroom door, and my mother walked in. She didn’t have her usual bubbly smile. Instead, a sorrowful, overwhelming aura filled the room. Her head looked downwards, no eye contact being made, but I noticed her puffy eyes from what looked like crying. She could only mutter a couple words out. “Jessica died,” she said.
I sat there, completely at a standstill. Jessica…my godmother, she took care of me while my parents worked, and had become a dear friend of mine; my best friend. I kept to myself most of the time, but I could always talk to her. My heart hurt after my mother told me that. I didn’t say goodbye, but I really wish I could’ve. She passed eight years ago on May 12th, only a few days after my fourteenth birthday.
Miss you, Jess.
The Bolt Magazine 