Why I could not cry10 Jul, 2013 03:38 AM
The night was cold. It had just stopped raining and the streets glimmered as the moonlight and stars reflected on them. I was standing on the curb of the sidewalk under a streetlight. I had my white umbrella balanced under my palm. I check my watch. It was growing late but I didn't want to go home. I don't know why I had stopped there; on that very spot. So, I headed home.
I entered the house and the strong tension hit me like a wave. I could hear my mother and my stepfather fighting in the kitchen. It wasn't their first fight. My little brother was sitting in the living room, staring at the TV with a dark screen. I asked him what was going on but he never responded. I sat next to him and he immediately wrapped him arms around me.
Everything happened so fast.
Mother made us pack our bags with enough clothes for the week. We climbed in her car and left the house. My Little brother had fallen asleep when she told us my stepfather had kicked us out of the house. I wasn't surprised but angry. We had left everything for him and now we were practically homeless.
We went to my uncles house to spent the night. My uncle wasn't home so we had to wait for him. He did arrive and he let us stay for the night. My mother left minutes later. To this day, i don't know where. My little brother and I lay in the living room couch but sleep wouldn't come to any of us. The silence was agonizing. I wanted to say so much but the words couldn't leave my mouth. It was my little brother who broke the silence.
"Pierce, are we homeless?"
I couldn't believe his question. I answered the way I only knew how. I Lied.
"No, we are in a house, right?"
He nodded and soon fell asleep. I couldn't keep my eyes closed. I could only stay awake and it was killing me from the inside. My heartaches because I didn't know if we really were homeless. My little brother was 4 and he shouldn't be thinking like that. Not ever. That broke me in half.
I felt alone. I felt hopeless. I felt grief. But most of all I was angry. Angry at myself.
I wanted to cry.
But I didn't.
My tears wouldn't come.