“Sara, come on! We got to go.”

Her mother came into her room while she was starting the eleventh chapter. She sighed, her friends had gotten her mother to join the fight of getting her to go to the party. She looked up from her book glancing at her mother. She was a strong Mexican woman, she had jet black hair and piercing brown eyes, she wasn’t a woman you wanted to mess with. Her mother had grown up in the ghost town of Real de Catorce.

“Mama you know I have to study for my history finals coming up. And I need my grades high to get into Rice.”

Since she was a little girl she wanted to go to Rice university in Houston. Her mother wanted her to reach her dream, she just wished that she would relax some too.

“You’ve done enough for the week, it’s Saturday and your friend only turns eighteen once. This is important. Get up and get ready.”

“Ma?”

Her mother walked away without another word. Years ago she would have fought back, argued, done something, but not since her father died. Her mother stopped fighting and she stopped caring about anything other then getting a degree. She shook her head as she closed her book and got out of her bed. Standing in front of her mirror she looked into her own eyes, she did this often, she was looking for her father. She was always told she had his eyes, but every time she looked all she found was emptiness. He died when she was young, almost too young for her to remember. Bits and pieces of him fading over the years.

She closed her eyes and could see Christmas morning. Her father was there singing next to her mother, they were happy. He was being deployed the next day, but he knew how to make the most of his time. He had done four tours already. She could hear him laughing as she played with a box more than the toy that came in it. This was a happy day, but in two months time he would be stolen from them. A prisoner of war turned into a martyr. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she recalled the officers standing outside the front door.

She remembers their words, the way they stood, the color of their uniforms, she even remembered how their voices sounded. She grew angry at the fact her father was fading from her memory but that moment was set in stone. That horrible moment changed everything. No one understood that moment, none of her friends could comprehend that moment, her counselors wanted her to relive that moment, but no one could help her move past that moment. She screamed at her reflection her anger peaking.

Her mother’s footsteps came running back into her room to find kneeling in front of her mirror crying. She went over to her sat beside her as she wrapped her right arm around her daughter.

“Shhh mi amor…”

The tears began to gather in her mother’s eyes. Neither said what was wrong, yet, they both understood for who else could understand their pain? They both understood that moment.