by Lizz Mceneaney

Created on: April 27, 2008

Memories

Mum's piercing blue eyes stared back at me. Her face crinkled with laughter. She loved to have fun and she was really having a good time, in fact she looked a bit tipsy, probably was as her champagne glass was almost empty. She was wearing her favourite party dress - black satin, body hugging, clinging to her every curve, and that string of black pearls Dad have given to her for her fortieth birthday. She was a wild one that was for sure. I could hear the music playing in the background and the hubbub of other party goers. A tear splattered onto the photo breaking my trance. The eerie stillness enveloped me. A cold shiver ran down my spine. Another tear fell. My feet ached.

I had been searching through the rubble for over four hours now. They were gone. I'd found Mum lying sprawled under the chandelier, splinters of glass piercing every piece of her bare skin. Her head cocked awkwardly to the side. A line of blood from the corner of her half open mouth. She was still smiling.

I couldn't find Dad. He would have been in the study at the time, across the hall from Mum or what used to be the hall. He must have been sucked right out of his chair. He could be miles away now. I couldn't even distinguish what was the study apart from the red leather couch with the buttons. Dad loved that couch. He'd lie on it shifting through his case notes. Sometimes, when Mum was out, he'd stretch out on the couch with a whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. Silly, silly the things you remembered. When I was little he'd prop me on the red couch and read to me. I'd swing my legs back and forth and listen till I fell asleep. I'd never hear another story from him again!

I sat among the pile of matchsticks, once our home. Uprooted trees lay where our living room used to rest. The thick velvet drapes ripped to shreds by branches and furniture. Books strewn around. Grandmother's antique vase shattered. An upturned coffee cup. Paintings in broken frames. Chair legs snapped. The stillness continued. I realised that all I had left of my family now where these photos.

Then I heard a scratching sound from behind the overturned sofa. There it was again. Then what sounded like a muffled baby's cry. The scratching became more insistent. I tucked the remnants of my family into my sweatshirt pocket and walked towards the sound. I looked behind the now weather-beaten sofa, that used to be the focal point for family drinks, and two green eyes peered back at me. The eyes were filled with fear.

"Chidles! How could I have forgotten you?" I put my hand out to my furry friend and he nuzzled against it, purring in greeting. I picked him up and let the tears flow.

The end

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