Not Knowing | Teen Ink

Not Knowing

October 18, 2018
By Anonymous

Throwing the covers over my head I tried to escape the terrifying world I had been living in for the past year.  This rollercoaster of emotion which seemed like it should now near the end was actually only about to start. I would have many horrible and emotionally exhausting nights ahead of me. I didn’t know any of this though. I was too focused on leaving or trying to at least. Yet now I was supposed to continue like normal, we all were, only I didn’t know how. I had just lost one of the most inspiring women in my life, and I was just supposed to go with my life. I didn’t get. I didn’t get how and why people did it, but I was about to find out.


After yet another horrible conversation, which we were now used to, my dad went back to my grandparents' house to be with his dad and siblings. My mom went with him to see if they needed anything, and I was stuck in the house with my two younger sisters, not knowing. Not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do, not knowing anything at all. It was as if I was new to the world around me.  I felt like I should have been comforting my sisters, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know what to do for myself.


Eventually, my mom came home, and I felt a little bit better with the previous pressure of being the oldest being taken off of me. I still didn’t get it though, I felt like I should be doing something, I didn’t know what though. I needed to leave. I needed the world around me to stop. I needed to get off the roller coaster.  


It was one o’clock in the afternoon and I looked as if it was the middle of a sleepless night. and I needed to get ready, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like I should go on with the day, it felt like that would be almost disrespectful in a way. I had to though. My mom wanted to get out of the house; she wanted us all to. So we all got dressed and left.


In the car, no one knew what to do. Do I talk? What do I say? What don’t I say? None of us knew. It didn’t get any better at lunch. We sat there at the table, all of us looking at each other, slowly eating, and not knowing.


On the car ride home, we got a call from my dad. Looking at each other before my answered made it feel like even the car was sacred. We were all statues looking at each other terrified about what could be said during this call. We were supposed to go to my grandparents' house, the whole family was there. I wasn’t ready for it. This had happened before, we get bad news in the family, let it settle with everyone, and all go to my grandparents. I hadn’t settled though, and I wasn’t sure I ever would. This was something I had to do though, I had to go.  


When we got there, I was even less ready to be there than I had thought. I didn’t want to walk into the house. I wasn’t ready yet. I unbuckled my seatbelt, moved my hand over the car door handle, opened the door and got out of the car. Before I even walked into the house, it was different. I put my hand on the doorknob, turned, and slowly pushed the door open.  I stepped inside the doorway and took a deep breath. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know how. I walked down the hallway and then ran up the stair and into the bathroom. I sat down and cried. I had told myself I wasn’t going to cry when I got there, but I couldn’t stop it. Then I heard a knock at the door. I wiped my eyes, fanned my face a couple times, took a deep breath and opened the door. The person standing there was not who I had expected, but I was glad she was there.


My aunt Angie pulled me into a hug without saying anything. I wrapped my arms around her and she gave me a quick squeeze. It was what I needed, but it also started the tears again, for both of us. We walked into one of the bedrooms in the house and sat down on the house. We both took a moment to calm down and we talked through it. Through everything from the night before to that moment. It was then when I realized people don’t just go on. Everybody goes through the day not knowing.


The author's comments:

I wrote this story to help me process better what has happened to me. Writing helps me better understand events and situations that have taken place in my life. I wanted my readers to know that whatever they may be going through it’s ok to not completely understand what is happening. I want them to know that they will learn and better understand as they continue.


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