Sitemap
Anonymous

Anonymous

Death

3 min readSep 17, 2018

It is amazing what you remember …. the crispness of the air that Sunday morning, or the un-obtrusive thrust of the telephone between closed bathroom doors so early in the morning.

It WAS early; I dried off from my normal shower to pull on my favorite pale powder blue suit from my closet. It was Mother’s Day; I worked at T.G.I Fridays … 1998 and I wanted to honor those Mothers who were worthy of that honor by wearing my Sunday best.

“Kelly!” … yelled over and over again …. (roommates)

“What’s up?”

…. “Kelly … I think you should sit down.” … “Your Mother is on the phone for you.”

“What?” … as a phone was shoved between the door cracks. (how did my Mother have my number? I had not given it to her since I ran way.)

“Kelly?’’ (My Mother) …. “are you sitting down?”

“Do I need to be?”

“Yes! ….” … several minutes.

“Okay … I am sitting.”

“Your Dad …. he was …

killed last night.”

My heart dropped.

Tears sprang from my eyes.

Me: “Murdered?”

My mother: “Yes!” … “It was his roommate, #####.”

Me: “Did they catch him?”

Get Anonymous’s stories in your inbox

Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.

My mother: “Yes!” … “He is in jail right now.”

Me: “Ummmm … “

Me: “What do I do?”

…… pause ….. sigh …… pause ….

“Come over.” … it was the request. I do not know why I chose to go. After all, it had been many years of estrangement and negligence by my Mother and I had no plans to remedy the action at all.

But … I was confused by my overwhelming emotions …………..

So … I drove to Marietta from Lawrenceville.

On the way over … a song played on the radio … “My Own Prison,” by Creed.

It was Sunday. How fitting. Tears clouded my eyes.

Me in my pale, powder blue suit … to have been in route to a double at work … to honor other people’s Mothers on such a special day …. May 10, 1998 …. and then be removed from society on a half-string ….

The day my heart fell through my lap … that day will forever be remembered.

The only one to love me completely! Little was I to fully understand what that meant in a world like this one.

He was My Father … My Daddy … and he was killed because he gave so much to those around him and was largely un-respected ….

His roommate shot him in the back when he went to the restroom.

I went in my Daddy’s house … after my Daddy was shot … in the apartment … I saw the blood on the carpet …. so much blood ….

Isn’t life grand?

One week later: I came back to work at T.G.I Fridays. I was given the patio … it was busy season … I got SUPER busy … fast!! I remember going to the manager … he was a pale guy with orange hair … I asked for help … he looked at me and without a breathe of a second ... he replied, “Kelly, people die all the time; get over it!” I will NEVER forget the words uttered from his mouth! I looked him in the eyes and said “I quit.”

I have been asked why I did not make it to college by those whom have seen my ability to do what others could not, and my answer has always been … for some (like myself) life has been so unkind.

I will NEVER forget the pale blue suit I wore that mourning.

--

--