PrintPoem – Separation (By Hannah Willingham)
Separation
A prose by Hannah Willingham
I speed down the three lane highway with the music blaring and the sun burning. Everywhere that I look there is light. I crest the final hill and wiggle with anticipation. I see the ocean on my right and the concrete waves to my left.
“There’s no going back now!” I sing as I cross the bridge.
Home. I am finally home.
I rush up the stairs and hastily shove my key into the lock.
My excitement soon fades as I realize that I am alone.
No one is home.
There is no response to my calls.
This is not like him; he would be here if he knew.
He would reply if he heard.
I pass the bedroom and remember late nights full of laughter and love. Nights when I was accepted into a circle made of love.
I reach the kitchen and can still smell the homemade french fries. I see people dancing, but they fade away as if only in a mist.
Daddy, please believe me, I would dance now.
I linger by the faded photos on the wall and tenderly graze my fingers over our young faces.
Remember. I remember.
Now, as I step out onto the balcony, I realize that I’ve come to the end of the line. There is no more house to explore.
All doubt has been subdued.
He really isn’t here.
In the one place that he belongs, in the one place that is his, he is missing.
He. is. not. here.
My mother is the one who sent me. She’s the reason why he’s gone. And a woman, who is not my mother, treats me like a daughter, and so I love her.
I have to go back now.
I have responsibilities and a life to live.
I cannot stay here-no matter how badly that I want to.
I have to go back to a house that I call a home.
It literally kills me to rise over the hill and cross the bridge once more.
This time I shake with sobs.
There’s no going back now.
As soon as I hit highway speeds, the tears subside, but my heart is still broken. I can feel it rattling around in my chest.
I had to go. Daddy, please understand. I love her too.
I must’ve just missed you.
I know that you love me; I love you too.
He’ll be back soon.
This is not goodbye.
I know where I belong.
I have been writing all my life, from thank you cards and short stories, to pieces in the school newspaper and unpublished books I have not sought professional publication before, but it is with great conviction that I feel my writing embodies the youthful spirit your publication wishes to express. I believe that words have the power to influence and impact and it is my passion to tell people who and what they are and to make them think about things that go below the surface of everyday life. I feel that my writing has beauty in it that I wish for more people to be able to see.
My publication credits include:
“Journey to Peace,” Voices in Ink, Cy-Fair High School Literary Magazine, April 2016
Multiple pieces in the Cy Fair High School newspaper, The Reporter, 2015-2016