Hope was sitting on her yellow fluffy rug, sitting criss-crossed on the ground, hands on her thighs, eyes closed, breathing deeply and profoundly. Centering her breath- she then opened her eyes. Last night she dreamt of her mom. She dreamt of the time they took a sewing class and how much she loved that time together creating beautiful things. Her heart felt heavy and she felt a deep sadness. She missed her mother so much
During the early days of losing her mother-- her dad had put her in therapy. She did not particularly like her therapist. She was a white woman whom she found boring, privileged, and just found nothing in common with her. No lengths of academia would give insight to what it is like to be a brown girl who comes from a strict Latino family whose most exciting family member (her mother) died in the same car she was in.
Worst day of her life: the day her mom died; they were on their way back from getting mochi ice cream at the grocery store. They had originally gone out for groceries but left behind the ice cream they were going to eat while watching Harry Potter: Goblet of fire. It seemed like a close enough way to do their own version of celebrating St. Patrick's day (The Quidditch match was between the Irish and the Bulgarians). That along with some green tea ice cream and green nail polish they had planned for their manicures- the night was going to be so fun. Her mother had noticed her in the rearview mirror that she looked bummed, so she made a U-turn and they went back for the ice cream. By the time they were finally heading back home it was 8pm and the city seemed to become more alive.
10 minutes away- we were just 10 minutes from home before a drunk driver college student t-boned my mothers car. My mother;s head whipped to the side so fast and my head knocked on the glass window so hard. Everything went black. I woke up in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. My eyes went black again.
I woke up finally in the hospital. She remembers reaching out for her mom with her fingers, croaking softly, "mom?, MOM?". She then felt her dad touch on her foot.
"Hope..." he said "Hope we can talk about mom later."
"What do you mean? I want her NOW", she spoke louder this time.
"Hope... your mom did not make it," her dad cried he could not keep the tears or evidence of sore throat a secret anymore. Hope looked at him and saw him for the first time. His face was red, his eyes were puffy and sad, his cheeks were wet from the tears.
"I dont't understand" Hope said.
"She didn't suffer baby, she didn't-- she didnt..."
Hope shut her ears off, she shut her eyes- her heart felt tight she couldn't breathe. That was the first time Hope hyperventilated and had a panic attack. The machines in the room started beeping faster and she fainted.
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Hope had these flashbacks all the time. They were her constant reminder of what was. Why did this happen? How? Why did her mom deserve this? These questions were her companion like Mr. Bugs, her chihuahua and pug mix sidekick of a dog, and unlike him they weighed her down everytime she opened her eyes in the morning.
Meditation helped Hope tune out the world and tune into her spirit. She figured if she kept in touch with her spirit or her soul, she could make it through anything. That is the only real lesson Hope got from her gringa therapist, and thus was still somewhat thankful she had met her.
Hope then laid back and went on her phone to see if Arturo had texted her back. Arturo and Hope had been casually making out for about a year now and she really liked him. He was nice, kind, and respectful. Hope knew Arturo had much stronger feelings for her than she did for him, but if she could not be with the one she wanted, then want the one you are with, right?
Indeed, Arturo had texted her back saying he did not want her to have a sad last day of Spring Break of their senior year, and that they should go to a movie. Hope sighed, Yeah, another movie this week, yay.
OK, Hope responded via text
Hope drove her dads white pick up truck to the movie theatre and decided she'd wait inside the arcade area. And that's when Hope saw her-- playing the basketball hoops arcade games, tossing one basketball into the hoop after another. She is really good, Hope thought to herself. As she leaned on the candy dispenser machine, Hope touched some jelly substance on the side of machine and yelled,
"EEEEEW!!!!"
Gaby turned around looking for where the wild noise came from and made eye contact with Hope.
Hope put her hands over her mouth and went red with embarrassment. She turned around and bolted to the nearest bathroom. She was cleaning her arm from the jelly substance in the bathroom when Gaby walked in. She jumped on the sink and sat there legs swinging laughing,
"You can't just touch whatever in an arcade! Dont cha' know that? The smaller kids are AWFUL," Gaby said slightly chuckling and swinging her legs. Hope laughed, as she kept washing her arm,
"'Yeah, I think I just learned that lesson the hard way"
"What was so distracting you couldn't see that the candy dispenser was oozing?"
Hope went red, "ummm... was just surprised arcades like this exist anymore especially in a movie theatre"
"Right, right," Gaby laughed. She jumped off the counter standing just an inch away from Hope she said, "well did you see anything in there you liked?"
Hope lost her voice and made a sound something like "erryyaaahuhh"
Gaby laughed and turned around leaving the bathroom.
Hope has kmown Gaby for about a year. She and Arturo were cousins and she went to an all girls school that was number one in their basketball league. Hope had spoken to her a handful of times and every time she did, Hopes chest went tight and her breath was hard to catch. Gaby was Black and Latina, and often had her thick hair straightened and into a high ponytail. She often wore athletic clothing, but they managed to hug her body nicely. She was tall, muscular strong arms and beautiful dark brown skin. Her full lips were often in a big smile from either happiness or cockiness- Hope couldn't tell. She had only been able to see into her eyes fully once, with her hazelnut cream eye color always felt too deep to stare into, too long.
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