Page 74 of Her Pretty Words

I gasp and cover my mouth. “Is my mom’s car okay?” I ask. She was so happy when she bought the vehicle, I remember the pink in her cheeks when she jumped up and down in our driveway to show it to us.

“Have you heard of heaven, Daniel?” the police officer asks.

I nod my head. Heaven is where old people go. It’s where my grandparents went.

She looks down for a moment, and when her eyes meet mine, they shine. “Your family went to heaven today. I amsosorry,” she says in a broken voice, then gets up and leaves the room. I look at my uncle who isn’t crying, and then I laugh when I realize the cop was making a joke.

My mom and dad are much younger than my grandparents were when they went to heaven, and Delilah is only six like me. She wouldn’t leave me because we’re best friends, and my mom and dad love me, so they wouldn’t leave me here either.

“Good one, Uncle Ron.” I smile.

He clears his throat and shifts. “This isn’t a joke, kid.”

I laugh a little more.

“Damn it! It’s not funny, Daniel!” I flinch from how loud his voice is. He sniffs and looks at the wall angrily. His jaw ticks and then he says in a low voice. “Everyone in the car died.”

“Stop!” I shout. “That’s not funny!” I slap him repeatedly in the chest, trying to make him take back his cruel joke.

He grabs my small hands and looks at me without a hint of a smile. There are two creases between his eyebrows when he says firmly, “They are gone, Daniel.”

I’m screaming the word “no” repeatedly, shaking my head, and running down the hallway. I slam the door to our room behind me and click the lock into place. I pick up Delilah’s stuffed dolphin and hug the plush toy to my chest, inhaling the smell of my twin.Please come home.

Uncle Ron tries to open the door, and I shout at him to leave me alone. Eventually he does, and in the silence, I wonder if he was telling the truth.

Delilah was just here, throwing this very toy at me. Laughing and making bets about strawberries. She isn’t old enough to goto heaven. Mom and dad take care of me. Where would I go if they all left me here and went to heaven?

I hardly remember what happened after that. It’s like a fairy came and stole my memory because it hurt too much. I remember glimpses of a woman talking to me. “I help kids like you,” she said. “Your Uncle Ron will become your legal guardian. He’s going to take care of you.” I didn’t bother listening.

I waited for my mom, dad, and twin sister to get home every day. I watched cartoons to pass time. I pictured Delilah’s laugh as she darted inside. My mom would likely tell her she needed to take off her shoes and my dad would ignore the chaos to kiss my head.

Uncle Ron slept in my parent’s bedroom that week. Most of the time he stayed inside the room with the door closed. Silence raged on and on every day, and I wondered how a home could become a house in a matter of seconds.

One night after dinner, I sat in front of the TV but couldn’t bring myself to turn it on. Because distractions were like sleeping, and the second I woke up, everything would come crashing back to me and it hurt all over again.

I watched my reflection in the dark screen. Nothing moved in the background.

There was only me.

I lifted my arm and flapped it in the air and my stomach began hurting. So badly. It was a different stomachache from when I’m sick. This one felt like I might die and go to heaven too.

The pain moved to my chest, through my arms, and down my legs.

The realization was the loudest thought I’ve ever had.They aren’t coming home.

I would never see my twin again. She’d never eat another strawberry. I remember, before all of this happened, how I thought a year was long. I’d give anything to wait a year in comparison to a lifetime to see them again. As I saw the emptiness behind my reflection, I realized how permanent forever was.

I curled into myself and cried harder than I ever had. If I had gone with them to the festival, I’d be in heaven with them. Instead, I’m left alone in a huge world without parents or a sister who I called my best friend.

I climbed the ladder and slept on the top bunk, hugging Delilah’s stuffed animals. I wonder if she bought a new one like she said she would. I wonder what toy she was bringing back for me. I had a million questions for her, but they would go forever unanswered.

Are there strawberries in heaven? Can you see me lying in the top bunk and crying myself to sleep every night? Do you miss me as much as I miss you?

Uncle Ron made me move to his house in Fort Meyers. I even had to start a new school, since he wouldn’t drive me forty-five minutes every day to my school in Sanibel. I was the only kid in the first grade without a best friend. Mine was in heaven and I had no interest in finding a new one. During recess every day, I sat on the bench by myself, and when my teacher tried to get me to play with the other kids, I acted as if I couldn’t hear her.

My uncle picked me up in car line daily. He made sure I did my homework and woke me up every day so I wouldn’t be late. But he never spoke about my family. He didn’t give me hugs or kisses like mom and dad did. He didn’t read to me before bed. He pretended not to notice when my eyes were red and swollen.

Every day I lived in deafening silence. Every day hurt. Every day I wished I’d gone to heaven too.

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