She Does, "I Do" Not

    It was final with the "I Do". My mother was married. Pawned our relationship for a platinum band. Ten years of cuddling through nightmares was now packed up in the linen closet with the old sheets. The train of her dress ran the length of both the groom’s legs stacked one on the other. The only uniformity amongst the soon to be dead flowers, and the unrecognizable faces I will call family, is her smile. Everything was silent as the moment came for us to take our first steps as a family. I would not budge. But the light blow on my back forced me to the next room.
    Everybody rose and pushed their way through the double ivory-wood doors and gather like a pool of water in the lobby. The enormous sound of their presence rolled like thunder off the walls and struck me like lightening. Everyone was joyous but me. I stood there and wondered if anyone would bother to hear my silence, my stillness. Notice that I cannot go forward into a life with the tombstone of my mother and I buried in the backyard.
    The room quieted to a low roar. The clicks of heel colliding with the marble floor lessened. Unaware they were trying to get my attention, I stared down shamelessly down at the man who would lay his head on my side o the bed. The rhythmical tapping on champagne glasses flew through the room averting all the glossy eyes to the balcony. I stumbled backwards against the wall. Slid down till I was resting on my buttocks with my hands cradling my knees. Feelings of perpetual loss made the good memories vague, and commissioned hatred for those to come. Still, I felt as unloved as she once did when he, my father, left her.
    A bronze colored woman stood beside me looking disgustingly hopeful. Not so much as a regard for me. I notice for the first time that I was not her only pride and joy. The people filed out, one by one, like ants. Spying on the food that would soon make its way to the table. My mom grabbed my hand with an excited touch. Beckoned me to join her at the table for the wedding party. I reluctantly declined. She turned away without a care leaving me lonesome at the end of the dingy train. Took her smile with her. I resume the fetal position with everything curled up and tucked into the black of my eyelids. It was her day, but I remember when.