Carry On

The monsoon winds whipped at her gown as she walked and carried off her tears as they fell down her cheeks. For this, she was grateful, as it would erase her telltale sorrow to cars passing by.

That night was to serve as the crescendo of her life thus far. She had worked for thirteen years to achieve, have her name called, and that pride of accomplishment that should most certainly swell in her heart.

Hours earlier, the girl painstakingly ironed out the packing creases of her gown. Her gown was deeply purple in color. She nervously daydreamed of the processional and how the music of "Pomp and Circumstance" would make her feel as she walked across the football field. The music carries the melancholy of a space of time ending, and new beginnings.

She dressed in her best skirt and carefully did her hair. She carried that gown into the car so that it would not get wrinkled again before she got there, her graduation. She rode in the car with her mother, and brothers, and sisters. Upon arrival at the school parking lot, her mother was agitated by the others trying to park.

She warned the girl several times that she was not to associate with her classmates when it was over, but, that she was to get her butt back to the car so that she could leave. The girl's face did not give away her disappointment at her mother. She had had a long time to perfect this quality, so as to avoid her mother's ridicule.

The processional was just as the girl had imagined. Music always served as a soundtrack to her life. She often disappeared into it. The lyrics would offer her promise of a better; no different, life. As she walked across that field and saw all of the faces that were beaming with pride at their son or daughter, niece or nephew, grandson or granddaughter. Her eyes scanned the crowd searching for her mother, just to see if she was happy too. The girl didn't see her, but quickly countered to herself that there were just too many people to see.

It seemed to take forever as the nearly 1,000 names were called to walk across the stage and be given their "diploma". They didn't actually give you your diploma that night, it would come in the mail later that week. Or maybe you had to go and pick it up the next day? That part of the memory is faded.

As the concluding speaker wished the graduates success in their lives, the girl became all at once nervous again. She knew that now would be the moment when the graduates would toss their mortarboards into the air as their final act together as a class. She could not be concerned with this timeless tradition, she needed to get back to the car straightaway.

As the caps were still airborn, parents and loved ones streamed onto the field. Classmates and loved ones were hugging one another, but not the girl. She had cleared the crowd as quickly as she could, hoping not to draw any attention to herself. She ran to the parking lot. The girl went straight to where her mother had parked, but the car was not there. She checked herself for a moment, then quickly ran up the rows of cars, perhaps she was mistaken where the car was.

Back and forth and up and down she quickly looked, each moment feeling more panicked than before. The girl continued to look for nearly half an hour, and finally concluded that her mother, and brothers, and sisters were not there. But, when did they leave? There wasn't an empty parking spot in the whole lot. And then it hit her.

People were starting to come into the parking lot now. The girl knew what she had to do. She made a hasty retreat from the parking lot and began to walk away from the school, for the last time. She walked quickly, to get out of the glare of the lights and turned onto the street that terrified her for its darkness. That night, however, she was grateful for the darkness, for then she let them come. The tears. The anger that she was never allowed to show.

The girl slowed her stride on that dark street. She lived 2 miles from that school and it gave her time. Time to vent her rage. How could a mother do that to their child? How could a mother be so blatantly selfish as to steal her daughter's one important night? The tears were falling freely, and she couldn't stop them if she tried and this time she didn't want to. The girl hoped that no one she knew would see the pathetic girl walking home in her deeply purple gown, alone, from her high school graduation.

The girl finally reached home, her mother's car was not there either. But, her brothers and sisters were inside. The mother had gone out on a date with a man. This was the mother the girl knew all too well. The same mother that insisted that if she wasn't in bars all night, then she was one of the good ones.

--I am CJ and this is a true story. I'm considering a second life as a possible writer. Your comments are appreciated.