August 25, 2010 - 2:49
Watching Liesel from the doorway in my Grandmother's upstairs bedroom, her front half walks forward, but her lower half crawls away from her body and lays there gory. She drags her upper half down the hall. Where the back part of her head just falls away like a flower shedding a petal. I see her brain throbs, she makes no noise. I can't either, I am screaming for help, no voice. Rasping, gasping. My mother finds me with her limp upper half in my arms, though she is not dead, just so still. My mother ushers me, and she still cradled, into her old caravan, the one we had when I was a tween. I lay in my mother's lap, she is driving us somewhere for help. I try to tell her we need to go back for Liesel's lower half, but I still can't talk. We go to Blimpie's. I use the bathroom, taking Liesel with me. There is urine and blood pooled in the sink. I want to wash her but the sink is too filthy and she is bleeding steadily. I am startled awake by a text message tone near my face.
And am so relieved to find her curled, whole, in between my legs.