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Dec. 21st, 2015

"Ring aroun' the rosie."

Her hands feel like crepe paper in my mine.  I want to hold them tight, but I am terrified they'll shatter into dust in my grasp.

She reaches out to touch my hair, pushing it behind my left ear.  "Margaret, why did you do that?  Only whores dye their hair like that.  I like your hair better as a brunette."

I swallow hard.  I'm not Margaret.

"I'm sorry, Granma.  Maybe we can pick some color and make it better."

Her hands are last years leaves in my hands.  I don't dare grasp too hard.

"Ring aroun' the rosie.  Do you wanna play, Margaret?"

I do.

It's too much.  The sanitized "living."  The scent of everything calm and healthy and just as it should be.  And now I'm Margaret, the sister that died on my seventh birthday.

I trip over my aunt on the way out.

I fled.

And I will never forgive myself.

Comments

( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
adoptedwriter
Dec. 21st, 2015 05:53 pm (UTC)
The descriptions of the grandma's hands are amazing! Wow!


AW
blue_eye
Dec. 21st, 2015 06:00 pm (UTC)

Sad.

mac_arthur_park
Dec. 21st, 2015 06:12 pm (UTC)
The closer I get the Christmas, the harder it gets.
twicet
Dec. 21st, 2015 06:31 pm (UTC)
Beautifully written.
redqueenofevil
Dec. 21st, 2015 07:06 pm (UTC)
This hurts my heart a little. I can't imagine how your heart feels just writing this.
yshaloo
Dec. 21st, 2015 08:52 pm (UTC)
that just grabbed hold of my heart and squoze the tears out.

I know that feeling though, the fleeing.
snow_white
Dec. 21st, 2015 09:14 pm (UTC)
This was beautifully written, but it brought me to tears - because I know that sooner rather than later there will be a day when my mum does not know who I am.
ladyvox
Dec. 21st, 2015 10:13 pm (UTC)
*hugs*
theenginesshot
Dec. 21st, 2015 10:13 pm (UTC)
So.much.love!
communitybee
Dec. 22nd, 2015 10:10 am (UTC)
This is wonderful
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )