Endings and Beginings

December 11, 2008
By Mary Beth Mitchell, LaFayette, GA

The coffin dropped down, down, down. It was so much easier to think of it like that. To think that it was only a wooden box—that it didn’t contain the reason that Sari Carston had been living for the last four years. Her little angel, the reason that she had continued to go on after her love left her. And now she had no one. Tears ruined her vision, not allowing her to see the fresh flowers she had bought. More then she could afford really, but definitely worth the cost. The young woman turned, looking at the empty graveyard. No one was here crying because her daughter died. No one here but her. She half stumbled to her car, needing to sit down away from the scent of fresh turned earth. Only when she was seated did she let the tears that she had been holding in her eyes fall.

Back at home, there were hundreds of things that needed doing. The woman’s parents had to be called. They didn’t care about their daughter or their granddaughter, but it was a necessary formality. Sari picked up the phone, intending to call her mother. But instead she found herself dialing the number of to her ex-boyfriend’s house, to tell him of his daughter’s fate.


”Hi Christian,” the woman’s voice broke, sobs working their way through her speech.

“Wha—Sari? What happened to you?” the young man sounded concerned, as if she was a good friend instead of the ex he had dropped years ago. Yet, she couldn’t blame him. A child was a lot of responsibility, and he had only been nineteen. Even if he likely didn’t truly think about it, his care lent Sari a little strength.

“Cammy she-she died.”

“Oh. Do you need any help with anything? I could come over and, oh shoot I don’t know, but there has to be something that I could do.”

“Not—not really. I’ll be okay eventually I guess. I just thought you had the right to know.”

“Of course,” there was a pause on the other line, as if Christian was thinking about something. “I could talk to your parents if you like. I know they’ve been really hard on you.” Her parents had literally thrown her out for becoming a mother so early, but she had always been carful not to let Christian know about that.

“It would be nice. Thank you, Christian.”

“It’s nothing. And Sari? I really am here if you need anything. I’m not a nineteen year old boy anymore.”

“You’re welcome Sari.” She hung up to soon to hear him add, “I’m sorry.”

The first place Sari went was to her daughter’s room. Se sat there and just looked as the deep purple walls as the tears raced down her face. She heard the phone ring in the other room. She didn’t move, letting the machine pick up a message.

“Hello, Sari? I just wanted to tell you that I’m coming over to make you something to eat. You didn’t sound capable of cooking. See you in about ten minutes.”

Christian cared enough to help her? Sari was more then amazed that he had called back at all. She should clean up a little bit, but she couldn’t bring herself to care enough. The tears had never stopped falling, even through hearing Christian speak comforting offers of help. Christian, a man who had only met his daughter twice. A knock came from the door. He was here, trying to help her. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t so alone. Maybe someone was here for her, Sari.

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