The One With Half A Heart

Anna Jones was only 14 years old when her mother was shot, right in front of her and her sister, by a homeless guy in a tee and sweats. In this adventurous story, you'll hear about how she dealt with it, and what she is up to now.

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2. Anniversary Of Death

As I typed the remaining sentence of my Abraham Lincoln history report, I once again felt the wetness of my tears underneath my eyes. Although It was 2 years ago, I still felt as if it had just happend yesterday. I shut my laptop and grabbed a tissue, as I walked downstairs into the kitchen. I threw my tissue in the trashcan and headed straight for the fridge. As I took a apple out of the bottom drawer, Piper walked in with her boyfriend Justin's hand held in hers. "Did you hear about Kelsey's nose job?" She asked. I rolled my eyes and walked into the living room. Piper and Justin followed.

I turned on the news channel as it was mentioning the anniversary of my mothers death. I had just realized it was already that time of year again when Piper rushed in and turned off the TV, with Justin following closely behind. I swear he's like a puppy dog to Piper. "You could have just switched channel's" I exclaim, avoiding eye contact. "How would that work out?" Piper asked, and out of the corner of my eye I could see a look of disappointment in her eyes. "The only channel I know how to change it to is the one with Project Runway." I couldn't look into her eyes, once again avoiding contact. "Tell me something Piper." "Anything." She sighed, and so did I. "Did you and dad try to keep this from me, do you think I can't handle the death of my own mother?" Now looking her in the eye, she has a faint look of hope, like she's hoping that I'll run back into my room and not speak to her for the rest of the night. Justin leans closer and puts his hand on her shoulder, the tips of his fingers grazing her collar bone. She takes a step forward and looks at me square in the eye. "That's not it at all." She says placing her hands on my shoulders. I take a step back looking at the tiny scratches on the floor that I made when I was 11, and my mother and Piper were chasing me around the house, while I, still in my soccer kleets fell, made that mark, and cut my chin with the corner of the coffee table, leaving me with the results of stitches. I started to get misty eyed again and this time I did exactly what Piper wanted me to do, I ran in my room not coming out at all that night. Not even when my father was yelling at Piper, (once again) not even when she slammed her door so loud my mother could hear it, and not even when the hallway light flickered off, acknowledging that my father was going to bed.

As I quickly dressed in my black and purple A pajamas, and put my hair up. I could hear the faint sound of Pipers music playing at a very low level and the ding of her I Phone ringing every time she got a text. I slipped into my queen sized bed that was once Pipers when she was 16. And as it got later into the night my eyes began to shut more and more as I listened to the grasshoppers chirp along to a steady beat. Chirp, chirp, chirp. 

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