Telephone

March 19, 2018

I. Loud chatter,
Quiet minds.
My teacher talking over us.
My words touching the paper.
Writing was my escape.

Telephone ringing and ringing.
Eyes beaming over.
Wondering who it was for.
She picked up.
Head nodding and everyone watching,
Looking directly at me the whole time.
Why me?
For what? I thought.

Jumping to conclusions,
Summoned to the desk.
Eyes following my walk.
Imagining the gossip and chatter.

So many unanswered questions.
My locker was empty
When I closed it.

II. At a normal speed,
Small talk to keep the conversation going.
Why was I here?
Why was I going home so early?
Why was my dad not at work?
So many questions. But never any answers

Three cars in our driveway
Three silhouettes inside my house.
What was going on?
So many questions
That I didn’t ask.

III. Everyone standing in the kitchen.
Dead faces,
Alive bodies.
I was confused.
“Sit down please”
Mother said.

Everything and everyone seemed different
The house felt cold.
“We have to go to grandmas.”
I was excited. I loved going to grandmas.
No other comments or answers.
A long period of silence.
The dead faces were back.
And then, 

“Your grandfather has passed
Immediate shock.
Life was different.
It felt different.






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