Tragedy
I remember
The golden locket that sat around my mother’s neck.
My worn, black converse that carried me everywhere.
The scratched up table that had withstood the test of time, from food stains to little boys’ drawings.
I remember
My father’s deep blue eyes and warm hugs that make my skin crawl and hairs stand up.
My mother’s sweet, soft voice that made the house come alive with melodies.
I remember
My annoying, younger brothers driving me crazy and filling me with rage.
I remember
The storm of fights my family would have each night,
The loud bang of a door slamming,
The soft tear that would trickle down my father’s face,
The expressions on my mother’s face, most of them angry.
I remember
The black minivan that become a part of our family
I remember
When the car used to be safe.
When the grey elastic seat belts strapped down across your chest used to work.
I see the fluorescent light change to green.
I see the big, maroon car heading towards us like a bowling ball heading for the pins.
As a bowling ball would collide with pins; the big, maroon car collides into us.
I remember
My mother flying out of the windshield, like a peaceful dove.
My father’s neck turned at a 270-degree angle,
The big, maroon car that swallowed both of my brothers,
Crushing their tiny bones until they almost ceased to exist.
How I barely escaped the clutches of death’s scrawny arms.
I remember
The house that I used to know,
The one that would fill me up with joy and heartbreak.
The family that would constantly get underneath my skin.
I remember
The house that I now must forget.
The family that I no longer have.
Copyright © Obiageli Nwachukwu | Year Posted 2015
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