Animals have an annoying innocence about them. Someone could be crying their eyes out while another scrapes some food off their plate into the trash can, and the dog will get up and sniff around the can for any signs of food that may have missed the opening, completely disregarding their surroundings. It' an innocence that is at times cute; at times unwanted. But it's there, and we keep going without noticing, because we're too busy with real problems (i.e. Those not involving food on the floor).

I'm in the kitchen. The Braves are on the TV (loudly) and we're eating dinner: fish, lima benas, and rice (the really good sticky, yellow kind). The Braves are losing. I't the 13th, and a full moon. I finish dinner third and rinse my plate. I go through my usual routine: rinse plate, put in dishwasher, put in fork, get a drink, rinse glass, put in dishwasher. I'm at the fridge, probably looking for dessert, when the phone rings.

Mom woek up feeling sick to her stomach. We went out today to try to find me a job. i asked at McDonald's, but they didn't have any applications, so I'll just do that online. We went to Pike's and bought grandma a hanging plant and Aunt Chris a cherry tomato plant. We went to Aunt Chris' house to drop off the plat and pick up a bench. We ended up also flipping her mattress and pulling a pot out of the ground that was sealed in by the ivy growing from every possible opening. She already has a tomato plant, so she's going to give it to Bonnie. Around noon, mom drops me off at my old school, Hebron Christian Academy, so I can see some of my old friends in "The Sound of Music." It was really good. i felt bad comparing their sets and scene changes to ours, but then i reminded myself that with a budget in the low hundreds, they did quite well. The show was about three hours long and started at one, so I got out at about 4:30 to meet mom, who had been sitting outside for about an hour. We went home. After some time has passed, about an hour, we get a call. Uncle Tom is in emergency surgery due to lack of bloodflow to his abdomen. Savannah just wanted to let us know.

The phone rings. Mom tells me to answer it, since I'm only six inches away. The TV is a little loud, so i moved towards the dining room to hear better. It's Jennifer, my cousin. She sounds horrible and asks if my mom is okay. Figuring she's talking about the surgery, I said, 'Fine, I guess. Do you want to talk to her?'
'Oh God...yeah, maybe I should.'
I motioned to mom that the phone's for her. Dad offers her the cordless, but she walks over to me by the old phone and takes it. I returned to the fridge in my search for something sweet. That's when my damn 20/20 hearing kicks in:
'...He didn't make it...?'
And I knew. I closed the door and kept my eyes on mom, who's slowly breaking down. She ends the conversation and almost immediately I'm in her tightest grasp I've ever felt. Grandma blurts in with her usual 'Who was that?' and I want to smack her. Mom announces the news and we quickly become one mass of people in the kitchen, all hugging each other. Grandma's pissing me off with her 'Oh's and 'It's okay's so I turn to her.
'Will you just shut up?'

Mom's downstairs now with dad, being comforted. Grandma's watching the damn Braves game (even though they're losing). I'm writing this because I am mad. When I'm mad, I eat, write, and play the piano. And i'm mad as hell. He was doing perfectly fine, and now this. False hope, a small glimmer of sunshine through the crack in the prison wall, and the crack is now sealed. The hope shattered. At least twelve lives ruined.

God, the bastard, has some sick sense of humor.