Day 324: Her Boys

Slowly opening her eyes, Beth could barely make out the scene in front of her. Blurred silhouetted figures stood in view, moving about as if time stood still, each blur inching frame by frame.  There was a glowing orange haze encased around her. The smell of gasoline, burnt rubber, smoke and something she couldn’t place filled her nostrils.

            Breathing felt very unnatural. With every inhale, she felt a burning deep in her chest and a pressure pushing so hard down on her it felt like she was being crushed by ten tons. Her eyelids could barely stay open. They felt heavy and wet. She tried to put the pieces back into place, to remember what happened, but nothing was coming together.

            Slightly moving her head, every movement causing her body to ache, she looked down. Frozen, almost paralyzed, she saw blood. It hit her just like that, like the Chevy pick up truck that slammed into her Toyota and caused her car to go flying, that she had been in a horrible accident. 

            Beth’s eyes shot open. She hadn’t had a nightmare that felt so real in a long time. Maybe not ever, she thought. Reminding herself to not watch the nightly news before bed, she looked at the clock. 5:45 a.m. Sighing, she flipped the covers up over her and got out of bed.

            By the time she had her morning coffee and taken a shower, her hellish nightmare had vanished from her mind. Throwing on some jeans and a sweatshirt, she was ready to take on the day. First she needed to wake the boys, Joseph and Jacob, for school.

            Opening the door a sliver, she peaked inside her boys’ room. Joseph, the oldest, was curled up in a ball in the corner of his bed on the bottom bunk. Jacob was sprawled out on the top bunk. His legs and arms hanging slightly off the bed, and his sheets had obviously been kicked off because they were now on the ground.

            Beth always loved watching them sleep, before she had to wake them up for school. The boys were only two years apart, Joseph, 8, and Jacob, 6, but they were so opposite from each other. Even the way they slept portrayed how different they really are from one another. She giggled at that thought and flipped on the light.

            “Time to get up!” Shaking each of her boys, they sluggishly rolled out of bed, rubbed their eyes and made their way towards the bathroom. Jacob barely moved, closing his eyes, practically sleeping while standing. Beth patted his bottom and nudged him along, and then went downstairs to cook breakfast.

             While turning up the temperature on the stove, Beth could hear giggles coming from upstairs. Smiling, she thought of all the mornings they playfully fought over the sink, Joseph pushing Jacob out of the way since he was the ‘bigger kid,’ and Jacob running his hands under the faucet to splash Joseph. They better be getting ready.

            The air smelled of bacon and pancakes. Right on time, her boys came running down the steps, just as Beth had set down their plates. They were small, but they had appetites like grown men. As they devoured their pancakes, Beth sipped on her coffee observing her boys. Jacob was sitting on his knees, shoving huge bites into his mouth, and chattering away. Beth couldn’t make out anything Jacob was saying, since his mouth was full. Across from Jacob, sat Joseph. He stared at Jacob for moment looking disgusted then resumed eating. Finishing first, like usual, he picked up his milk and chugged it. When he finished, he set the cup down and smiled, forgetting to wipe the milk moustache away from his upper lip.  Beth couldn’t help but laugh.

            “Finished?” Beth asked as she was putting her plate away. Both the boys nodded. “Alright, well go get your backpacks and we’ll go.” Just as fast as they had vanished, they were back with their backpacks in tow.  They always walked to the bus stop every morning. It wasn’t very far, and Beth always enjoyed seeing her boys off before she had to catch her own bus to work.

            When they approached the bus stop, other parents and children were already there. She noticed that lately, they always stopped what they were doing and took a moment to stare at her. Some of the parents would pull their children closer to them, others would give her a confused look and the rest would stare at her with deep concern or pity. She never understood why.

            Moments later, the bus came into view and the boys raced towards the other children, excitedly waiting for the bus to reach their stop. She blew them a few kisses, waved and turned to walk home. Abruptly a woman, one of the other parents, grabbed her and pulled her aside.

            “I know what happened to you hasn’t been easy, God knows I wouldn’t know what to do with myself either if I lost both my children, but can you please stop coming here in the mornings. You’re scaring my children, along with the other kids.” The woman squeezed her hand and finally walked away.

            Beth felt frozen, almost paralyzed. She looked down, remembering the orange haze, the silhouetted figures, the pounding in her head, the smoke filling her lungs and the blood. She closed her eyes and saw the two limp bodies caressed in her arms. Her boys.