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by Jessica Gillman

The night before, I talked to my mom on the phone. She seemed fine, was going to eat spaghetti and go take a nap. She had just been released from prison, two days prior, after a 7 1/2-year-long sentence. We all went to bed planning our trip to the blueberry festival the next day, and I stayed up late to watch the news to see the weather to know how to dress. In the morning, my husband decided to get up early and mow the lawn before we left. He was done mowing and had gone down the road to his dad's to take the mower back. And I went back inside to eat the hashbrowns and toast that he'd made that morning. I went back outside and sat on the cold cement porch. I could smell the fresh cut grass and the cool morning air, and my dog, a yellow lab (Scooter), had been in the creek and was muddy and wet. I threw his fall far so he'd stay away from me and not get me all muddy.

I can hear the phone ringing and the answering machine come on, but no message being left. I had already locked the door so I didn't want to go back in and get the phone, but they just kept calling and calling. I could see my husband and kids coming back up the road, and I decided to go and get the phone. It was my dad, he said, are you home alone? All I could say was, why? Why? And I ran outside without my shoes on and I could feel the rough bumpy sidewalk under my feet. And he said your mom's gone. I said where? He said dead. She's dead. My knees became so weak and I ran across the yard screaming with the phone in my hand. And I fell against the big walnut tree in the yard, my forehead was pressed against the rough bark of it. I felt sick, and could not breathe. My head was dizzy as I tried to understand why my mom would take her own life? I looked up trying to see straight the red truck driving by looking at me on my knees screaming no! no! no!