• Devastated was the only word to perfectly describe her. And that she still was I’m sure…wherever she may be…
    He left her. Mark left us. He was the only thing we really had, someone that kept us all together, someone who was the glue for my art projects or the rice for our dinner. And we loved him. Raine and I, we loved him so much, more than walks on the beach, more than dandelions, more than being under the starlight, more than the world itself. But now, we are left only with useless memories, forgotten promises, and the familiar smell of a now morbid house.
    My mother? Raine? She adored him. He was EVERYTHING to her. And it wasn’t like the cheesy love stories or the fairytales that never came true. Not like the TV shows, or the romance novels you bought at the book store. Mark meant happiness, Mark meant a perfect life. Something we’ve always hoped for, something that we dreamt about every night before him. And now, she felt so alone without him. She felt empty without him. She felt bare, like a part of her was now missing. She felt as if anyone who looked at her knew about what had happened. But no one knew, except me, and him of course. We didn’t have many close friends; I never knew a family other than my mother. She was abandoned because she had me when she was far too young. She raised me like I was a precious jewel, like I meant the world to her. And maybe I did…no, I know I did. I know that I was the only thing keeping her sane after the incident. I know that before mark? I was the only thing pushing her on, making her forget, and making her smile at the least.
    I always thought that it was my fault what Raine and I went through, and now I struggled to put her broken heart together again…I strived to fill the vast emptiness of sorrow that was now there.
    She sobbed. And she held my hands so tightly in hers that it hurt. But I didn’t mind. She needed me and I was there, I was there to protect her, to show her that life had a purpose that life was to keep moving, that we still had a bright future. I was there to tell her these things, things that I didn’t believe myself. But she didn’t listen.
    After Mark had left, the days continued in a blur. Raine put herself in a glass case, a dream world where everything was okay, and where nothing can hurt her. But even with the fake smiles, the kisses, and the tender words that she offered, I knew that under all the ‘’make-up’’ she was falling apart. I knew how horrible she felt, I knew how much the tears pushed to fall, But not in front of me. I could almost imagine her saying in her mind. ‘’shh...Not yet, Later when she’s gone okay?’’ but I could see through her lies, I could see through her expressions that she felt forsaken. And no matter how much things were different, Marks name never rose up. He was like a secret that needed to be kept in closed doors, something that you should never mention. Like something you keep in the attic that you don’t need, something broken. But you don’t throw it away… it has value, a missing part of you. A precious memory.
    The days dragged by, my mother started missing more and more of work, sometimes for whole weeks. She was a growing lie. A mash of excuses, she was living reality, life. Something so beautiful, but so pointless. She started smoking again. Something she quit a long time ago. She used to tell me I was beautiful, that I meant everything to her. That she could see everything through my green eyes. But that was no more. I knew she cried late at night thinking of the life we had with him. And I couldn’t do anything about it. She thought I was in bed dreaming of ponies, and rainbows. She didn’t know how much it hurt me to see her melt into nothing. She didn’t know how hard it was for me to wait for my mother to disappear into thick black smoke. Like a witch in a cartoon. I knew she’d given up on herself. I knew that now, all she was to do was wait to fall. So she wouldn’t have to suffer.
    Raine was a strong woman, I knew that. Dignity was something she kept close to her. Something she had a lot of. She didn’t let anything break her down. So before anything else can end her life for her….she ended it herself.
    I still remember the day I saw her on the floor surrounded in blood. ‘’ so fragile so broken, I thought’’. I fell on my knees and held her body in my arms. I remember the way her prefect eyes looked up at me carrying dread and horror. The way her mouth slightly opened just to mouth the words ‘’I’m sorry’’ but nothing came out. I remember how the blood trickled down her neck so slowly. It was so red so full of life, yet so vacant. I remember how I rocked back and forth crying out, feeling everything as a dream. I remember singing to my mother, so helpless a crack in my voice as I lulled her to sleep. I remember how she stopped breathing as I wept how I touched my red hands over her eyes to close them forever. But most of all, I remember how calm we both were, like she was finally home. Where she can be happy. The atmosphere was dark like space. And we were just there holding each other until she was gone…until my tears covered my sight, until the kitchen floor looked like a red sea. Until all I could feel was a black hole surrounding me, eating me up whole. I didn’t stop it. I didn’t wish for it to spit me back out like a piece of gum. But it did, and I came back to a horrid reality.
    And now, I am here, an orphan, reading her story – reading our story out to you, crying, weeping. Holding something silver and sharp in my hands.