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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1340473-Coming-Home
by Weezie
Rated: ASR · Other · Drama · #1340473
Short story about a young girl adapting to the loss of her mother.
Emily felt a great sadness descend on her, as she crossed the familiar threshold which had been changed so drastically.  The walls were painted a soothing cream.  On one side a large bright landscape was hung and on the other sat a neat hall table with a large, modern vase filled with dried twigs.  She thought back to how it used to look.  The walls used to be covered in family photos, which spilled onto the majestic hall table.  There had been a large hat stand, which had always been filled with coats and hats of various sizes and shapes, the inevitable bunch of shoes and umbrellas perched under it.  Her heart thumped painfully.  She wondered how she was going to cope with the changes in the rest of the house, if this was how she felt about the hall.

Fanny quietly led her into the lounge which was also decorated in the same tasteful manner; totally different to the family room it had been when her mother was alive.

Emily felt the tears forming in her eyes, and tried valiantly to stop them from flowing down her cheeks.  The result was that deep ponds of water balanced in the bottom of her eyes, glistening in the light.

“Oh Emily, I know how difficult this is for you.”  Fanny said, seeing the tears and putting her arm around the young girls shoulders, a concerned frown on her face. 
Emily unable to keep the tears in check any longer, noticed the tears falling into huge splashes on her green T-shirt
.
“I’m sorry,”  she mumbled  “I did mean to try to be brave about it, Dad told me that you had changed the house.”

“I hope you know that the last thing your father and I wanted to do was to upset you.  In fact, that is why we didn’t move  We felt that it would be nice for you to be able to come back to the house you have lived in all your life.”

“What difference does it make!  Its not my home.  I don’t belong here any longer, you and Dad have made your own lives, I am no longer a part of it!” she shouted, gesticulating and stamping at the same time. 

“Emily, that is simply not true!    We love you.  Yes, I said we!  Me too!  We do want you to be a part of our lives, a big part.  You are part of us.  How can I make you believe me?”  Fanny made a quick turn about the room, her blond hair fanning as she turned.  What could she do to stop this child from hurting so much? 

“I just want my mother back.  I want my house back.  I want my life back to how it was.  I don’t want you and this newly painted house.  I don’t want to feel like a stranger in my own house, when I come back for the holidays.  I want my life back!”  Her voice rose with each statement, tears now streaming down her face which was red and swollen.

Fanny looked at her incredulously and quietly stated. “Well Emily unfortunately I cannot do that for you.  I cannot bring your mother back.  It’s just not possible.  I know how much you loved her and how much she loved you.  I know how hard it is to lose a mother at a young age.” 

“No you don’t. Nobody knows how I feel!”

“I lost my mother when I was 10.  I do know how you feel!”

Emily stared at her, absolute astonishment all over her blotchy face.

“You never told me that, you’re lying!”

“I am not lying!  I didn’t tell you because I thought it might upset you.  It was devastating at the time, in fact, it still is sometimes.  She had been sick for a long time and after being in hospital for a week, she died.  I thought I had died, when I heard the news, and even to this day I miss her.  I really, really miss her.  So I know how you feel.  But, I can’t do anything to change it.  It happened.”

Emily sat stunned by this revelation.  She didn’t know what to think.  She just kept sitting, staring down at her feet in horror.  How did all this happen?  She had promised herself that she would be in control, that she would not be affected by the changes in the house.  What happened?

“Your mother died and your father struggled for a long time without her.  He deserves a new life, Emily.  You are at school for most of the year and, as you get older, you will be at home less and less.  You need to let him have a life.  You need to let yourself have a life.  It’s okay to be upset by your mother’s death but you need to continue to live.  It’s what she would have wanted you to do, and you know that.”

Emily nodded, then lifting her head, she ran up the stairs to where her bedroom used to be.  She was sure that it would be a neat spare bedroom, not her room any longer, but at least it was private and she could think this all through. 

She pushed the door open and gasped in surprise.  The bedroom had been left exactly as it was, posters on the wall, pictures tucked into the mirror.  She sighed happily and turned to the window, there on the window-sill was the plant her mother had put there, just before she died.  It was thriving.  Fanny must have been feeding and watering it.  It was lush and beautiful.  Yes, she decided, Fanny was not so bad after all.  She was only trying to help.  She turned, as she heard a footstep on the top stair, and ran into Fanny’s arms.  “Thank you.”

Fanny looked down at the top of Emily head and thought. Yes, I think she is going to be alright.



© Copyright 2007 Weezie (weezie68 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1340473-Coming-Home