Never Never

by Pippin O'Leary

I let myself cry.
 

It was new to me, the sensation of warm, salty things flowing down my face. It’s difficult to understand, nearly. I never thought about it myself. I just- well, I never had melted enough, I guess. My grandparents die. The rest of everyone cries, while I sit there thinking. My sister called me cold. My mother told her I just didn’t understand death.
 

I understood.

I understand.
 

We were never close, but they were always there. My older sister, my college-bound brother, my workaholic father, my nagging mother. I was six when they all left me. The doctors said I was lucky I was buckled in. Lucky my brother flew in front of me, getting hit by the glass first. Lucky that I was short enough not to have the hood of the oncoming first car crudely come between my head and my body. Lucky I wasn’t in the front. Or on the left side, when the second car collided.
 

I am lucky I lived.

Am I lucky they died?
 

So, there it was: A six year old. There I was, thinking of why He had let this happen. It’s hard to think of, as a child. It’s hard to think of, when you’re an adult. Hard to believe everything is gone. That your home is no longer yours. That your favorite armchair is being sold, so that your parent’s debts can be paid. Hard to imagine you’ll never hear their voices.
 

It was hard, being reborn.

It was hard, dying.
 

I had never let myself think it was my fault. Even when I was little, I never thought guilt was the way. I never thought I’d grow up so cold, though. Never thought I’d sit here, waiting for ‘it’ to come. When ‘it’ came, the realization of my loss, I never thought I’d cry. I never did cry, not then. I grew up with my mother’s friends. I never got close to them. I would never give myself, my thoughts up to the world.
 

Never wasn’t coming soon

Never is already here.

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