UNSPOKEN BLOOD STREAMS

Closed eyes, restrained lips, and the
-silence of black dreams. Blankets, of all colors and shapes smothered, the
arch of my shoulders, to the stretch of my toes. The cries of a women falling
to the floor, awakened my soul, before my body was able to move. My scarf
holding my hair, neatly consumed, draped over my eyelids like, royal curtains,
swaying wildly-tamed across the big windows, to see the world of perfect-evil.
It was my mother. Crying and sobbing. I could smell the fear in her eyes, I
could hear the streams of her heart bleeding, the tears of death. The horrific
phone call, of my grandmother, two weeks ago, was unorthodox to death of my
Aunt Gloria-an angel to my family, the consoler to my secrets, and the backbone
to my dreadful past.

The night carried on with a dim glow, near
my bedroom window. In my eyes, my Aunt Gloria, was not, an angel of heaven yet.
She still was here, whipping my tears, holding my hand, and fighting my fears.
She was still here, holding me back from self-destruction of suicide attempts,
that I've struggled from, for many years.

Arising from the empty plots of nightmares,
and abusive fables to the mind. The thunder light stroked my face, with the
sound of rain and a fresh, but humid, cleansing smell, of the weakened souls.
For the past month, the members of my family, left silent words, that would
never escape, the lips of the wonders- why? Why did she die? Why did she have
to go so soon, so early in the light of when we needed her most? Family dramas,
the continuous arguments, and the build-up of animosity, of blaming each other,
for Aunt Gloria’s death, was endless. Secrets that tore, the family apart from
the roots, she made to keep us together.

The ceremony, was long, and drastic. My eyes
gazed around the room, and seen every female, including little children,
crying, while the men were trying to hold back the tears and be strong, for
their wives and kids. I didn't cry, didn't shed not one tear. I put my arm
around my mother. Tears, that cut her cheeks, hit my collar bone and raced down
my shirt, sending a cold, sensational, but uncomfortable shock against my skin.
I was a bit surprised at the fact, of me- the closest one to her, the daughter
she never had, didn't cry, not even when I got up to see her. She laid there
with red lips and expression eyebrows.

Her soft hands, looked like raisins, her
face was emotionless, not a wrinkle in sight. The flash backs of smiles,
exchanging for cries and the laughs exchanging for the times I was furious
about something, flooded my heart. I knew she was still there. She was always
there and in my mind I knew she wasn't dead. No, not yet. This was just a
nightmare, tip-toeing and playing tricks on my heart. But I knew better.

The outside air of the world, was sticky and
moist. The wind was blowing hard and the sun was hidden behind the shadows of
the clouds. They lowered her coffin into the grounds of a saved spirit. Each
minute the rain from the clouds got heavier and heavier. I let the showers of
God’s hands take away Aunt Gloria’s soul with him. He washed away the foot
prints of blood, hard years, sins, and silent cries, she had left upon the
earth. I took a petal of her favorite flower-a yellow orchid, and let the petal
get lost in the pollution of the death, and in the water of the living, until she
will finally, see it, grasp it, and cherish it forever.

I woke up the next morning warm, it felt
like the hugs, of her big, but loving arms. No one, in the family, was
contacting each other, to see if they were doing okay. After the funeral
everyone, just fell off and never spoke again. It was weird and bazaar, like as
if everyone just fell off the face of the earth. I knew I had to do something,
I couldn't sit here and be comfortable, with the fact of never seeing or
talking to any of my other family members.

Two weeks later, I decided to have everyone
over, for dinner, at my house. To my surprise everyone came and actually said
“hello” or “hey” to one another. I thought everything was going so well, so
perfect until someone brought up the death, of Aunt Gloria. A few rude words,
were shared and then a whole hurricane of secrets was laid out on the table.
“STOP!” My scream was loud and broad. It might have been so powerful, even the
eyes of the pictures could have looked at me as well, as everyone else. “Do you
listen to yourself, we are a family, not a pack of hungry wolves, fighting for
food! It was no one’s fault with the death of Aunt Gloria. She died of cancer.
Cancer that she had been fighting, for many years. Yes, maybe putting stress on
her, with our problems, made it worse. But, But….” Running towards my room, my
heart, started to sink, down to my toes.

“Boom!” The door slammed open, and I fell to
the floor, head first. I opened my eyes to darkness, hearing the sirens of car
wreaks and furious women, out my bedroom window. Looking under the bed to find,
an old razor blade that stopped scaring my skin, just a couple of years ago.
Thinking to myself, I thought I threw it away. I stretched my left arm out, and
clearly saw, the color and boldness of my veins. The first strike was, painful
and blood rushing. I could feel the beats of my heart, beating fast, like a
drum. I looked away from my arm, while striking, my veins fast and endless.
Soon I felt no pain. My body felt numb and asleep. “Essence you are a beautiful
girl, don’t let anyone say you aren’t.” The flash back of Aunt Gloria, speaking
those whispers in my ear, made my heart, cry without any tears. “You know,
you’re the strongest in my family.” She use to always, tell me that when, I
cried about things.

“It’s okay to cry, princess. The tears
cleanses your soul.” I could fill the tsunami of tears rushing from my heart to
my soul. The tears raced down my cheeks one by one, as I felt my heart breaking
out from the temporary tape, that was holding it together, already from the
pain and the recent heart breaks. Cutting myself, faster and harder, I felt
helpless, and hopeless. It came to me that she was gone and never coming back.
No more of the conversations about simple to mental flashbacks. The hugs and
kisses were gone, the Godly gifts of her just being there, floated into the
core of my body. “Your life is precious and too valuable to throw away. Stop
cutting yourself now!” Her words in my head made me stop instantly. I dropped
the blade, to, find my blood, huddling around me. I felt the world, fading in
and out, in my mind. The blood suffocated my thoughts, and freed my heart. I
tried to stand up, my dress, dripping with truth of death.

“Essence!” My mother and grandmother, burst
through the door with their presence. I opened my mouth to form words, that
wouldn't bounce off my tongue. I fell to the floor, on my back. Hearing the
footsteps of people running towards me. Opening to the voices of my family. All
I could see was darkness. My body, was being dragged to the underworld of
death. I felt dead. Weakened to the soul. I could hear my mother talking, I can
feel her hugs and kisses. I wanted to say something-anything. But my mouth felt
stapled together. The words were screaming inside-out, but it seemed like I was
only silence. “Princess.” My nick name floated in the air of darkness. “Who’s
there?” my heart started breaking, to the fact of my Aunt Gloria, voice
lingering in my eyes. “Princess, you’re going into your old habits.” She said.
Her heavenly voice, coming closer to my face. “I’m sorry, I just couldn't
handle, all the drama, in the family.” I announced my presence, to her, so
she’ll know that I am listening. The warmth of her hand, interacting with my
face, made me realized that, cutting myself solves nothing. “Princess, stop
cutting yourself. The family needs you. You are now the roots, which keep the
family moving. I love you and remember Essence, I will never leave you.” She
kissed me on my forehead and left in the light like an angel.

“Essence…Essence….Essence!” I could still
hear my mother’s worried voice. “Essence wake up, come back to mommy…..Please.”
Tasting the salty tears, that rolled down her cheeks. “Shhhhh! stop crying.” I
struggled to rub her head with my hand. Opening my eyes to my mother’s sweet
smile, sparked my heart with love and light. “Essence! Doctor?” She yelled
through the halls of the hospital. The walls were white as a pearl. The cold
air made my arm throb in pain. “She is going to be okay, but we are considering
for her to stay her for one more night to make sure.” The doctor was a male.
Tall, dark-skinned and had volume to his arms, that nearly ripped through the
white coat.

“Okay, Essence, we’re here. Don’t be too
long, we can’t be too late for the church dinner.” My mother said, while
powdering her face, in the mirrors. “Yes ma’am.” I replied to a bright smile,
that lights up any room, with her presence. I closed the car door behind me.
The heels on my shoes, sinking into the graveyard, felt weird and unusual. The
clouds revealed the sun’s true beauty of its, x-rays of many colors. I stood in
front of Aunt Gloria’s grave. “It’s been two weeks now. The family is coming
together, at their own pace, so that’s good. Thank you for everything. I love
you and I’ll talk to you later.” I said, with a comforting smile, showing the
defiance, in my cheek bones. I kissed and placed the two roses, tied together-
one real rose and one fake one, on her grave and felt the warmth of her hands
on my shoulders. “Essence, come on, we’re going to be late!” A voice spreading
through, the pollution, and innocence of the naked sky, made my ears ring, to a
woman‘s voice.

My mother was shouting. I walked rapidly
back to the car. Blew a kiss to her grave and closed the door. “What did you
give her?” My mother asked with both hands on the wheel. “I gave her a two
roses, a real one and a fake one. “I replied, watching the sky pass by, through
the window. “Why a fake one?” She asked, while touching my hair. “Well if a
rose stand for love, then why, do it always die? So when the real rose die, the
fake one will always live with my love, for her.” I replied, with looking into
my mother’s green eyes. “That’s cute.” My mother said, reaching over to kiss me
on my cheek. I can imagine, Aunt Gloria and the other angels in the sky,
playing with the earth, as a ball of life and pure innocence.