Forever Waiting

Yes, it is another short story, and no, the main character is not an avatar for me. Just read it please...tell me what you think if you want...

I sat on the porch swing, just as I always do. Waiting, the chains bearing the swing creaked under my weight. I was always waiting. Waiting for her, for mom. The other kids on the block had gotten used to seeing me there, swinging, eyes always focusing on the road. My brother said that it was a silly thing to do, after all, he said, she wasn’t coming back.
My mother “died” three months ago. It was a school . She hadn’t seen it coming. No one had, they, those monstrous children, had “killed” her. Or so my brother said. But, unlike him, I knew she was alive. In fact, she would drive into the driveway any moment now. Any moment.
But soon, my father called me in; saying dinner was ready. I ate it on the porch swing. I didn’t want to miss her. I never wanted to miss her.
I wanted to be the first to see her drive up in her blue SUV, waving at me from the front window. And, I would smile; my brightest smile, then run in and show my brother I was right. Then, my dad would come out, wondering where we had all gone. Upon seeing my mother, he would dash out of the door and lift her up in his strong arms, spinning her around. He’d kiss her on the cheek, and my mother would laugh, her laughter always reminded me of tinkling bells.
“How was your day at school?” He would ask her, and she would tell him the kids in her class were being good once more. I watched the drive expectantly, waiting, always waiting for that moment to come.

Months passed like sand through one’s hands for me. My brother was the only one who was happy. It was like mom didn’t exist for him, for he carried on his life like he normally did. His high-school friends passed by me every day, waving as they passed, their black cargo pants hanging by their waists, pockets loaded with all their useless things. I paid them no heed. After all, I could see his friends anytime I wanted, but my mom coming home after her long trip at school, that was worth more. Much more.
My father was getting better. When my mother had died, he was a sad sight. He had locked himself in his room, crying himself to sleep, calling out for her to come back. Though I couldn’t see him, I could hear him, so could my brother. My brother said it was sad, but I ignored him. Personally, I thought dad was overreacting; after all, Mom was coming back. But, I hadn’t expected him to feel so much better so as to date another woman.
“Dad! Who is she?” I had asked him the night he had brought her home. She was dressed in a short red dress, her hair tied up into a tight bun. She was pretty enough, and any man would probably want her. After all, she was beautiful.
Mom was angelic, though. Her beauty was only something to be marveled at, or so people thought. When in college, my father and my mother started to go out. They got married soon after.
My dad frowned, knowing what I was going to do. He chuckled nervously, taking my hands in his own. “Diana…This might be hard for you, but I’m starting to see other woman now…”
I pulled my hands out of his, giving him a cold stare. I glared at the new woman, the stranger who had dared to enter our home. “No! Mom’s still alive! How dare you!” I shrieked; tears started to form in my eyes. He tried to reach for me, to comfort me, but no one could comfort me now. No, I wouldn’t let them.
“Diana.” He said, calmly, finally having reached me. He threw a glance at the woman behind him, tapping her foot impatiently. “Your mother is…” He winced as he thought of the word he was going to say. “Dead.” I stared at him in awe, totally flabbergasted.
I felt the tears flowing, washing away all my anger towards him. I felt a pain in my stomach, as if someone had stabbed me with a knife. I backed away, shaking my head, counting every step I took. “No, no! It can’t! She can’t! Never!” I cried, dashing out the door.
The street blurred beneath my feet, my footsteps echoing in my mind. I had heard my brother say that so many times, but hearing my father say that, so confidently…It was too much. I tried to tell myself she was still alive, that she would be waiting for me wherever I might end up, the fact of what my father had said entered my head, washing away all of my hopes.
I stopped my sobbing, hearing the soothing sound of water near. I broke away from my thoughts, finally looking at my surroundings. I was sitting on a rock, green with moss. Trees surrounded me, encasing me, trapping me. Below my feet was a creek, flowing softly, making lovely music for my ears. Nature had never sounded so wonderful. I smiled, remembering nothing of what my father had told me, my eyes filled with glee. What a wonderful place.

I never went back home, never going back to that disloyal family. I lived in the forest, thinking, someday, my mother would come back, just as young as she was when she had disappeared. Everyday, I sat on my moss covered rock, waiting, forever waiting. For I knew that she was coming back, she was.

They say happiness comes to those who wait, well, I’m waiting.