Ellie is the sort of person who gets lost in the beauty of all people, never the bad.



Living with three brothers and your dad can be quite the task when you are a seventeen years old girl. Don’t get me wrong when I say that. I love them, but man are they a handful. All of my brothers were older than me, I was the baby. Danny, my favorite big brother, was twenty. Richie and Jake were twins. They were eighteen and complete opposites. My dad, now there is a whole other story of its own. He looks almost fifty. Wrinkles here and there, bags pulling at his huge chocolate brown eyes. His smile, worn, yet so warm. I love them all so much.

My mother had left when I was only seven years old. Before that I could remember all of our family outings. I was always the center of attention being the youngest and the only girl. I loved it. My mother used to go to work every morning yet she always managed to pick my brothers and me up from school. We would go home and she would fix us a snack then send us off to do our school work before she started dinner. After dinner she would let me help her clean up and then she would take me to the park down the road. We always went to the park after dinner. It was my alone time with her. I called it “ mommy daughter time” .

Once I went down the big slide way too fast and flew straight out of the tunnel without stopping. I landed on my back so quickly I had no clue what had happened. Before I could feel any pain, she was at my side pulling me up gently. As she wrapped her arms around me, I could feel her warmth surrounding me in a protective veil. I can still remember the feel of her smooth skin next to mine; the feel of her cool lips against my forehead. So comforting. The smell of her beautiful dark curls, honey with a hint of vanilla, was intoxicating. I remember the feel of her warm breath against the nape of my neck, telling me everything was ok. Telling me that she loved me and would take care of me. Mommy is here she used to say. I felt so safe and wonderful in her arms at that moment. I didn’t even cry. Why did I need to? She had me in her arms, that was all that mattered.

That was the only memory of my mother I had allowed myself to remember. It was one of the only memories that I could play in my head over and over again. The rest didn’t matter. I knew my mother loved me, my family, she was just lost. My dad had never really explained to me the reason why she had left. He had just stated that she was unhappy. I would never know why she left. I would definitely never understand.