A Smile Full of Tears

My parents and I went to go pick up my aunt and uncle to bring them to some relative’s birthday celebration. When we got to their house my aunt came out and she said that they couldn’t come. The words “Why” were repetitively asked. But only a load of excuses and conversation turners filled that gap.

My aunt brought food for the party so she put it in the car. My dad was wondering why and kept asking her why. My mom was so confused. Because he didn’t understand. She didn’t understand. I didn’t either. When my uncle and aunt called my dad they said they would come. They said they were ready. But they didn’t come. And I still don’t understand what happened.

My aunt came over to the side the car of which I was sitting on. She tapped on the window. I rolled down the window. She said hello to me with that smile, that smile that could brighten up a kicked puppy. I put my head out of the window a little bit so she could kiss my forehead. But I never saw that on her face before. There were tears, not really developed tears, but tears none the less. No one in the car seemed to see them. But I saw them. The tears welling up in her eyes, but never seemed to roll down her cheeks. When I saw the tears I became so confused and sad. Because here was one of the happiest people I know crying for a reason that I do not know. And I still don’t. When I looked her in the eyes I don’t even know what I saw. Sadness. Despair. Something I didn’t recognize. Then when she saw me look into her eyes it’s like she mentally told me “It’s fine I’m going to be ok.” But those words were familiar. It’s like the words I always told myself in the mirror when I cry. I didn’t believe the words she told me through her eyes. Because somehow I knew everything wasn’t ok.

She was on the walkway back to her house and I saw her pick her arm up and dry her tears in her sleeve. Now I knew for a fact she was crying. It was so sad to see one of the most happiest person I know cry. The person who was so excited the first time I walked into her new house. The person who spent 2 hours in the store with me looking through all the clothes just so I could have a new wardrobe. The person who, when her and my uncle lived with us, cooked food and made sure I ate every night. Crying. The broken world has just gained more power.


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