Amalia respectfully nodded to the woman who presented her condolence. Not letting any of the anger or sadness she felt show on her tired face.
The endless flow of people who came for her mother's death have all asked about her father's absence. All prying and curious about a matter that was none of their damn business. She was quite ready to lash at the last one when her aunt, who most have felt how near she was to her end, held her hand, hoping to calm her.
"You should go rest a little, sweetheart." She murmured so only she could hear.
Amalia didn't want to leave her alone, not when her father could not take on his responsibilities. But a look at the living room changed her mind.
They all wore dark, depressing colors... she'd have hated those clothes. Her Mother loved lively ones. She was vibrant and full of life, so unlike the sight in front of Amalia.
They were laughing just yesterday, she thought. Having a family dinner. Her mother insisted they celebrated her admission into the school of the Art Institute of Chicago. She couldn't process how it turned out like that.
From her left, she could see Mrs. Johnson coming to her. Their community gossiping queen had only added to her decision to flee the suffocating place. So nodding at her aunt, Amalia headed toward the stairs.
The noisy Mrs. Johnson called after the fading shape of Amalia, only to be ignored. The young woman never thought she had it in her to be this insolent. She was usually the gentle, shy girl who couldn't even hold someone's stare, but today, her late teenage rebellion had finally kicked in.
On her way to her room, Amalia stood in front of the master's bedroom cracking the door to make sure her father was alright. His face seemed so old today. Old and so fragile, it broke her heart.
She had never seen him that way. Amalia didn't think that he had uttered a word since last night. No, he kept on looking at their photo album in the living room. And when she left, only then did he cry. She heard his gasp of pain, the murmur of her mother's name and the sound of his defeat. And never did she wish to forget something as she did that night.
Everything was strange, she still felt like all of this wasn't real. It had to be a nightmare, then she would wake, to find everything in its place. Amalia'd run to her parents' room just to make sure everything was alright.
But no, it was all true. Her mom had ended her life, and all that had taken place since yesterday was the bitter reality they had to live in now.
She calculated every damn action. It wasn't a celebration dinner; it was just a step in her evil chem before killing herself.
She asked Paula to make their favorite dishs for their dinner. She kept on talking about Amalia's childhood, the happy moments they had as a family. How content and lucky she had them.
"you were four years old, right honey?" she had asked Amalia's dad, intertwining their arms together before she looked at her daughter.
"yes, she was," he answered.
"We were in my studio. I had a commission and you and your father decided that we would have the day together." She laughed at the memory before continuing on speaking.
"then when I started painting, you stood beside me and looked so curiously at the canvas. when I prepared another one for you and gave you a brush..."
She played a little with her wineglass before she looked at Amalia. "you didn't ask what to do, or look at me. You just started stroking as if you knew what you were doing and I just knew that you were like me, you were my daughter."
"oh, come on, beside her eyes and height. She's a replica of myself, Deborah." Her dad seemed a little jealous of her mother's words and it made them laugh at him.
Being an only child have costed Amalia a lot of attention and the usual fights over whom she resembled the most. And contrary to others, she basked in the attention they both gave. She was quite awkward with people and because of that; she grew quite close to her parent.
"she might look just like you." her mom interjected. Amalia looked at her parents, exasperatedly and overly joyous by their little bickering. "but inside she's like me." she gave her a sad smile, and a tear fell from her eyes. Amalia went to give her a hug, and her mother softly told her she loved her.
But now all the "I love you" and "I'm proud of you" felt false now. Everything was a lie. That woman was as selfish as she was cruel. She would never forgive her. Not after hearing her father scream her name. Not after seeing her lifeless form in his arms, and surely not after leaving them behind.
She still sees him crying and asking for help. He kept on calling her name, not for one second did he let go of her.
The paramedics had to drug him, so they could take her from him. Unlike her, he was loyal and loved her to the point where he crumbled at her leave.
Opening the door wider so she could enter. Amalia went and fell beside her father. She hugged him from the side, his eyes looked down at her.
"you don't have to worry. I'm alright" he gave a weak smile before kissing her forehead.
"I love you, sweetie. I'm not leaving you. I swear," he croaked a laugh, but it felt even more painful than his cries.
"Hi there." Looking from the ceiling to her doorway, Amalia found Elena, her redheaded best friend. Coming in. She had nudged her before she took a place beside her.
Elena and Amalia knew each other since they were in diapers, but only grew closer since the eighth grade. She used to think that Elena didn't like her. But then again, she was quite the socially awkward kid, so she didn't get well with the others.
She would stay in the library or art class and for that, they considered her as a nerd and not really the fun friend you wanted to hang with. She even got bullied by some, and it's actually how she became friends with Elena.
She took her defense once and then screamed at her to grow a ball. Young Amalia was so horrified by what she heard but even more amazed at her powerful personality that she just started following her like a puppy.
A puppy that Elena ended up adopting. Amalia smiled to herself as she remembered the strange start of their relation.
"they all left."
"good."
"Michelle spent all her time plastering me to tell her where your dad was. God, that woman is worse than a parasite." Amalia laughed at Elena's accurate description of Mrs. Johnson.
"I ended up telling her to fuck away from me before I put a knife on her fucking throat. But it was funny to look at her expression after that. She just looked at me like I was the devil's pawn!" She laughed harder, imagining the scene.
"oh Ellie you've got yourself a taught enemy!" she was sure that Mrs. Johnson was going to cry the story of how young evil Elena treated her to every poor soul she met.
"do you? Cause I quite like her now and I don't want to mess up this promising friendship." And then she felt sorry for the noisy woman. Elena could be a petty demon when she wanted to.
Amalia was glad Elena didn't ask about her mother's suicide. She wasn't sure how to respond to that.
She believed that her mother was happy. Amalia's mother never said or showed that she was anything but that and she couldn't bring herself to ask her dad. He seemed too shaken to talk to her about it.
The girls fell into a comfortable silence after that. Her mind returned to her dad's state and, once again, she debated her next move. She didn't know anymore if the SAIC was what she wanted anymore.
Actually, now that she was thinking of it, she never really wanted to go there, it just was where her mom went and she kind of wanted to follow in her steps.
Leaving her dad behind seemed wrong now. No, it seemed impossible. Every hour, she had developed the habit of checking his room to make sure he was.... There. She'd go crazy with worry if she left and it's not like studying in San Diego wasn't possible. She could stay here at home and still continue her education.
Yes, that was the better solution. She felt like leaving him now would be too hard for him. And even though she could call him for check-ups, she just thought it wouldn't do.
It's okay, Amalia decided. San Diego State University is great, and she'll love it here. She had been nervous about leaving home and San Diego, so it was going to be alright... she was sure.
The following day was quiet. Her father was still in his room and Elena left for her home. Amalia had stayed in the comfort of her room when her aunt came to see her.
"Amalia, sweetie, can you ask your father to get down? He ate nothing for the last couple of days, and I'm getting anxious." She didn't want to refuse, but she wasn't sure her dad would. Even she had no appetite. "I'm not sure about that..."
Giving her niece a pitying look, she kissed her cheek before pushing her in the door's direction. "My brothers have never refused you anything, now use your super power on him!" smiling at her, she went to execute her order only to hear the doorbell.
She didn't want to disturb Paula from her other cores so she went to the front door. Once she opened the door, she locked eyes with chocolate brown one. They seemed familiar, even the young man's face seemed so. Her heart sped up before recognition followed. And the older man with him only confirmed her deduction. Uncle Henry called Amalia's name before englobing her in a hug.
James, Henry's son and Amalia were both. It seemed stunned at the realization. He changed a lot from the last time they've met.
"uncle Henry, James." She offered a small smile.
James smiled down at her. "Amalia, you've grown so much." He said, not knowing how much tense the young woman got.
"You too James, I could tell it was you only thanks to uncle Henry." She smiled at them, not knowing what to do, but then she blushed as she realized she didn't invite them inside. Giving them space to enter, she apologized before she went to inform her dad.
Dad was still on her mom's side when she entered. He didn't move since earlier when she came to see him. Amalia sat cross-legged on the bed, looking him down.
"uncle Henry and James are down."
She could tell that he didn't sleep all night. His eyes were red and tired. She took his hand to kiss it. "do you want me to tell them to wait for you to take a bath, dad?" he sighed before nodding and giving her a smile.
Amalia was in her bedroom when James came to find her. He asked if he could enter and when she nodded; he came in.
The man in her room seemed so out of his comfort zone. He looked at some of the painting Amalia did, smiling as he got closer to her.
The young boy she used to know was nowhere to be seen. James had grown even taller than she remembered. His stature had grown to that of a man.
James sat further away from her. He kept on looking anywhere but at her, seeming to be eager to leave.
"how is Mia?"
"She really wished to come and couldn't, but sends her condolences." Amalia doubted his words, Mia and her weren't really friends, they never were. She believed they only played together because their families were almost always together.
After they had left San Diego, she and Mia lost contact. Only her dad and Henry kept talking, but then they were friend since before she was born, so it was normal. She was happy to see him this morning and to know that her dad could count on him.
"Thanks."
"I'm... sorry Melly." he finally looked at her. "Your mom, it's so sudden, and I don't know what to say." He wasn't the only one.
No matter how much she thought about it, she still didn't understand why she did it. How she could have left them. She had no answer to either that or James' words.
She still didn't cry, perhaps, she was still unaware of what was happening; she had screamed, raged and even swore but didn't shed a tear until she heard James' question.
"Are you alright, Amalia?" his voice was so gentle. Like he was talking to a broken little girl and since the moment she saw her dad holding her mother's lifeless body, did she consider her well being?
She thought about her mom, about all the times they laughed together. When they used to paint together. When they would watch something on TV and she would lovingly brush her hair and suddenly she started crying.
James took Amalia in his arms and started tapping her back, while telling her "everything was going be alright," and "it's okay, I'm here."