Surrounded by Nothing

"Take care of your Mom."

That's what my Father whispered in my ear as I hugged him goodbye. He was just doing his job, returning me to my Mother's house on that bitter-cold Sunday morning, it was the agreement they had when they split years before. Nothing in the agreement mentioned what to do when my Grandma died that morning, though. The news rattled my core in the worst ways, she was truly the only person who would listen. I was unprepared, and further broken than a glass shattered in a million pieces. She was my bestfriend, my savior. I didn't want to share the loss I felt with anyone, so instead it was forceably shoved down as my weak body walked to my crying Mother.

"It'll be okay, shhh."

If only I could count how many times I repeated this phrase that day, it was what my Dad would tell me whenever I came to him crying because of a bad dream. I remember wrapping my frozen stiff arms around her, knowing no one would hug me like I did her. Quickly, I grew to understand why he had asked me to take care of my Mom. She was never very stable, but with Grandma gone, everything around her turned to the chaos that she was on the inside.

She and her boyfriend fought more, yelling over money like we didn't live off of his rich great-grand parents paychecks. The children all cried more, and began running to me in moments of uncertainty. My Mom's family all avoided us, because no one liked her boyfriend, who was nearly as empathetic as a rock. But me, I blanked. It was like the world around me turned to static and I was merely a broken television on auto-pilot for what felt like years. Not ever even moping, but simply not feeling, nothing good, nothing bad, just nothing.

School was and endless wave of work, and trying to keep afloat with the one friend I had wasn't feesible for my tiresome fifth grade life. I was so empty, yet so full of bottled up emotions. The fights the adults got into stopped being interviened by me. The children stopped depending on me. My Mom's family stopped small talking with me the times that they did come around. I was surrounded with those who felt the same despair as myself, yet felt no connection. Not floating above the water, not drowning either, I was less consious than a single-celled organism. I didn't feel broken or whole, but the house that was my body became vacant--all signs of life deserted. Anything left was defective, flawed, and over-all useless. Completely hollow.