Celeste;
Black nothingness envelops me in its merciless grip. Taking me back to that night. That bad, bad, awful night.
Breaths pour out of me heavy as I watch it all replay like I've traveled ten years into the past. Like I'm nine again in a fancy dress, ready to eat Mommy's delicious Italian meal.
Heat cascades through my insides as I recall Daddy's phone echoing that shrill tone I used to wiggle to when it rang. The nothingness surrounding me swirls and thrums like it has a pulse.
I remember the weary lines that bracketed his mouth when he picked up the call and the other person's voice came through.
I remember him exchanging tense glances with Mommy from the kitchen, and how her expression sank when she asked him, "Everything all right, hun?"
Daddy had only gulped; I think it was a distress signal she recognized, now that I think about it.
Mommy had wiped her hands on her floral print apron, hurrying in her favorite worn-out slippers she loved so much.
