Prompt writing- create an emotionally charged scene where a character returns home to their apartment, after traveling the world solo for a year.
Never The Same
By 2B’s
Gone? I thought to myself as I stood in the dusty coffee nook. We had plans. We have catching up to do. We are supposed to have lots of conversations about my adventures. My travels were here idea!! 360 days?? 360 days, five days shy of the deal we made, to discover a world she never got to experience. My rock, my best friend, my roommate after my father passed, now my mother is gone, too?
We sat in the breakfast nook and planned my voyage out perfectly. She claimed the future with excitement, anticipating all the postcards I would be required to send her. Departure day came, she helped pack my suitcase and snacks like it was my first day of kindergarten. We spent months of her mapping out my exact route she wanted me to take saying “listen Zip, this is just as much of an adventure for me as it is for you.”
Something is wrong, like nightmare wrong!!
I am home five days shy of our agreement. What happened? She made me pinky promise I wouldn’t chicken out and come home early. We pinky promised 365 days not 360 days. A year of adventure, me traveling solo around the world and her pretending the postcards would make her feel like she was with me.
I can’t breathe. I’m hyperventilating. Am I having a panic attack? In shock? 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10… not the same without her.
“Zip, do this for me, travel, take pictures, eat the fine foods, learn the languages, live free and experience the world wide beauty…Zip? baby can you pinky promise you will give me your all for 365 days?”
I can still hear her saying that ridiculous nick name “Zip” as she offered her pinky to be promised. I can smell her white diamond perfume and feel her happy soul looking at me with encouragement. Standing here, with my back pressed against the apartment door, I slowly slide down to my knees, tears streaming down my face, sobbing out loud like she could hear me “never the same… momma nothing will ever be the same”. I laid by the front door sobbing uncontrollably for hours. I must have passed out because I woke up with droll on my cheek and now, pitch black outside. I stood up and managed to walk to her bedroom. The amount of medicine bottles on her dresser is jaw dropping. What in the world is all of this? Dumbfounded, I stand there in shock. I am startled when I hear the front door open. My auntie Shelly catches me as I collapse into her arms. “She fought hard, zippy, she just couldn’t beat it.” She whispered in condolences. I pulled back from her embrace and stared into her eyes so confused by what she just said. Fought hard?? Couldn’t beat it?
6 months before our last ever pinky promise she found out she had cancer. She never said a word about it. Aunt Shelly said “your momma always wanted to travel the world every time a postcard came in she would wink and say Shelly take care of my girl like she has taken care of me.”
A pinky promise will never be the same.
