I died this morning. Literally and figuratively, I am dead. I died while the sun was still trying to find its place in the sky. Not sure what took me, I just woke up...dead.
It is now the afternoon and I hear my family downstairs going on about their normal doings. I can hear my 12 year old little sister and our little brother arguing about whose turn it is to get on the video game. I chuckle from the sounds of my dad down the hallway fussing at the TV because the referees won't allow his favorite football team to win. And my mother, who is down stairs cooking a meal for 5 even though she has to get ready for her night shift at the hospital.
I know what you are wondering, how is all this still going on when I am dead upstairs? Well, they don't know I am dead. My mom had came in to my room shortly after I died to give me something. She called my name and I didn't answer so she shook me. I would think as a nurse, she would immediately recognize the symptoms of death, but she simply placed the item she wanted to give me in my hand, kissed my forehead, and walked out of my room. My mom and I have always had a Winter relationship as cold as the ice falling from the sky. But did that just happen? Did my mom just touch me and convinced herself that I was simply cold from Jack Frost's blanket and just need to stay in bed? She even pulled my covers tighter before she walked out of the door.
While the Night and Winter are raging war against each other outside, I am reliving the days before my death and trying to figure out how I got here. All I can think about is how I normally don't come home for winter break because its so far from my college. But I had done so because I decided not to return and to give up my mom's dream of me being the first child to graduate. This broke her heart and added on to the long laundry list of disappointments that I give her. She didn't talk to me for a week afterwards. I was thinking about changing my mind and going back. Hoping that this gesture would get me back into my mom's good graces. I was actually going to tell her that this morning, but I guess now I won't be getting that chance.
I am dead. I have been dead for over 12 hours and not another soul has come into my room because they were all ordered to stay away by my mother who told them that what I had was contagious. Now it is late and the house sounds as dead me. No one came to see about me or to come get my body that is now frozen stiff and smells of a decaying heart and rigamortis dreams.
Then all of a sudden my door crept open and the smell of home-cooking fought with the stench that was overtaking my room. It was my little sister, coming to bring me the food that my mother had prepared earlier. She waited until mom left and everyone else was sleep to take a risk that she would "catch" what I got to make sure that I was fed. She whispered my name, "Lula! Lula, it's me, Tasha! Mama, said to not come bother you, but you've been here all day by yourself and I know you're hungry. Lula, I made you a get well card that I will sit right by your bed, ok?"
Then my little sister took my hand and the object that my mom had placed in it earlier fell out of it. It was a heart shaped necklace. When my sister held it up, I recognized it. It was the necklace I had always wanted, but my mom would never give to me. That's when I realized that my mom knew I was dead, she just didn't want to let me go! She even knew how I died because she saw me dying from it everyday...a broken heart.
Tears streamed down my little sister's cheeks when she finally felt the death in the room. She whispered to me, "I will get someone to come get you, Lula. I see why Mama told me not to come in. Because now I have caught the broken heart, too."