FREE ESSAY ON ABSENT

ABSENT

Absent
He shut the car door behind her using his side for force. The night air was calm, yet it
snapped with a cold bitter bite. The luminescent moon gave an undiluted vision from the
tinted glass. 
They walked slow footed towards her front door; they were hand in hand, with matching
beats, created by the slow sequenced steps they each took. Their glazed eyes which peered
at one another created a silence. The silence was so great that the honking car alarm,
barking dog, and serenading cricket, had their orchestra pause for their moment of
innocent love. Just as the sounds had slipped away, they broke open with a loud
crashendow. The moment was lost it melted away like butter in a scorching pan. In that
mere second that their eyes had met they lost the world. The glowing arrangement of stars
had closed up like children's eyes during a horror film. The background became engulfed,
to a narrow cut of sheer fabric then sown and carried away into the lover's minds. Soon
only their eyes could be seen between the two. The colorless non-existent environment was
all that surrounded the two beating hearts. Then a silky hushed whisper of I love you
opened the warm silence.
The orchestra erupted once more and the moment was whisped away like the background had
been. The dog, alarm, and cricket seamed to regain their power. Then the world woke from
its gypsy trance and awareness of other habitants other then themselves appeared.
The christening breeze that had just dissolved began a forest fire of goose bumps on her
tender young skin. They walked slowly towards the stoop that lay before the door and
stopped. She gave a blissful peck on his newly shaven cheek. 
She glanced down to her purse and unsnapped the frigid metal button that jailed her keys.
She searched frantically, as her body temperature began a downhill race. She pulled the
jangle pile of metal from her purse. Her eyes, blind by the night felt for the rubber
ended house key. She found it with little effort, and drove it in.
Shocked by the temperature of the knob her teeth began a tap dance. The squeaky door flew
open, and they walked laggardly one after the other. The tranquil air evaporated nearly
all her Goosebumps.
She flashed on the hall light and then turned to look at his firm dark face. Her melting
neck twisted forward again and followed the bear walls to the floor. Her heart jumped!
The calamity of the evening had just began its evil adventure. Shards of glass carpeted
the hall floor. Broken frames gave the crystallized decorations dimension. Not just a
small area of the hall; every picture, mirror, and frame that papered the walls now
blanketed the floor. 
With little surface to step on, they both began playing a game of hopscotch to shave
their way through the cluttered hall. They reached the living room hell-for-leather.
Again another lightning bolt of shock struck their bulging eyes. Her eyes remained
frozen, her body did not even give a quiver, and she was afictciated on the sight of the
large screen television that lay gutted on the ground. A smoking lampshade with a lighted
bulb lay sparking by its outlet. The couch almost not recognizable was a jigsaw of
cushions and frames. Books, CDs, and speakers made puddles on the wood floor. It could
only be described as an electronic butcher shop.
When her eyes began to thaw her head robotically turned to the kitchen. A handful of
vomit crawled up her throat. The sight of a four-day-old, spoiled, pot of ham hawks and
beans was spilt over the floor. It also painted the cupboards and the stove in its
roughing stage of life. She had smelt a sent similar to this before. It was a hunted
diseased deer left to rot in a festering pile of junk. She had seen it on the side of the
road. Again the smell got to her and it caused the vomit. She couldn't help but remember
the maggots that swam through the carcasses' body. She swallowed the vomit, and regretted
it. The acidic taste clang in her mouth like day old coffee. She grabbed a rag from a
drawer and covered mouth and nose trying to destroy the sweltering stench. Cupboards were
open and empty. The kitchen floor was a porcelain mosaic. Every plate, bowl, and cup
created a portrait. A portrait with the masterpiece message undiscovered. The couple's
bewildered faces gazed at one another. He jumped to her and held her close. This caused a
roof leak from her now weeping eyes. Her heart, was now in her throat, and began to grow.
Her breath harshly shortening began to scare him. He took his large hand and wiped her
tear.
She grabbed the phone from the counter and called her fathers cellular. Hello, Dad, are
you their?
Oh, hi, it is just you.
What happened here? At home I mean.
I'll be there in a minute, we'll talk then.
Her confused expression gave an awry mood to the room.
Would you like to help me clean the glass? she asked the boy. He consented without a
trace of thought. Her hiccuping breaths broke pauses through her speech. She walked over
the spill to get to the garage, still sheltering her vocal mask with the thick blue rag.
She opened the door and a howling wind blew through. She grabbed the first empty box she
saw and with one hand held the box onto her head. With the other she slammed the brutal
windstorm out.
She came to the hall and saw the silhouette of her lover at the other end. In all this
ugliness a heart of gold rang through. They began picking up the glass, and trying to
save pictures at the same time. 
Their construction clean up was interrupted shortly thereafter. The front door's knob
began to shake. The girl put her hand down onto a camouflaged shard. An electric river of
pain flowed savagely up her arm. An animalistic cry shot from her agitated body. Her
gaping palm showed blood flowing from the clear demon. The blood had no rhythm in its
gravitational fall; it fell like from a windshield. With her thumb and index finger
tightly griped onto the glass she pulled with fierce strength, and when getting it out
threw it down like a child's toy soon to be forgotten. She sensed the presence of her
father. It wasn't very difficult seeing how an over whelming smell of Jack Danielle's had
just filled the air. Her father sat her down at the table. His sobbing voice told a story
of pain and misfortune. Every syllable was a non-mistakable cry of misery. 
Your mom left us!
She heard these words and then thoughts of her strung out mother filled her head. Her
mother's life had a pattern just not one that the average person follows. She was a 3-day
person. Three days up and then three days down. She lived her life for herself. Her mind
was twisted and evil, and full of vanity. From the white powder that ruled her then to
the needled that gave her life, she was consumed by her addiction. A dark cloud circled
the young head the whole time her mother was cast into her make believe world. This cloud
aged the girl; aged her in such a way that child hoods ended before it had a chance to
come. It was actually the first good thing the mother had ever done for her daughter.
Now, for the first time she could be the kid and not the mom. This 4-word sentence had
just changed so much. The young girl's father squeezed his hand in his newly bought
Levi's. He struggled to pull it out, and then it forcefully broke free. His fist opened
and three rings fell from it. They bounced their way from the table and onto the ground.
The first ring the father had ever bought for his wife landed in the pool of blood that
his daughters hand had created.