Made Of Sand

• Cassandra Raulinaitis, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2013

It had been an argument that had raged on for hours. Neither woman wanting to give up. Laura stood opposite her mother, shoulders held stiffly, jaw line taught and lips drawn into a thin, tight line. She looked every bit like her mother, wild brown her and burning green eyes. Right now they both were fired up with the heat of the moment. In contrast her mother tried to hold herself together, her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders relaxed, but if you knew her you could see the stiffness in her body, the tightness that seemed to hold her rigid posture into position.

“You are a liar. You promised!” She spat, venom dripping from each word.

Her mother flinched away from her daughter, taking a step back. There was a cold rage that seemed to burn beneath each movement she did, it was as though she was fighting every urge to simply step up to Laura and hit her for her insolence. But she held herself together, she took a deep breathe, hoping that it would hold the fury back, hoping that the next words she spoke would not be riddled with her own anger. She would remain the calm person in this situation, she had to and if she didn’t she would break down, and the tears that threatened to over spill would fall and there would be no one there to catch them.

“Laura, calm down. I did not promise. I said maybe. I know how much you want to see her. You don’t think I do? She is my daughter as well as your sister.” There was an icy edge to her own words, and they brooked no argument.

However Laura was not a girl so easily put off by words. Right now she was fuming, her small hands clenched tightly be her sides. Her face was flushed and red and her eyes stared daggers into her mothers. She did not care what her mother said; she wanted to see her sister. The doctors had said any day could be her last. Her mother had promised they would visit her, she had promised they would go and see her, because it might be there last. Talia looked like a ghost, the cancer had eaten away at every little bit that made her her. There was nothing of her left, she was dying, it was clear, but it hurt her more than any words could ever be used that her mother was refusing her this. That her own mother didn’t want to go.

“She is dying. You are heartless you monster, how can you not want to see your own daughter while she is dying? Don’t you ever talk to me again.” She screamed.

And just like that she started crying, pitiful sobs escaping her lips. Without another word she spun around and fled from the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
The mother stood staring for a moment, and in a matter of seconds her shock turned to tears and she wept. Sinking to the ground she held her head between her hands. Tears slipped down her cheeks and uncontrollable sobs tore through her throat. She couldn’t tell Laura, she couldn’t tell her that Talia was dead, she had died that morning. She didn’t even believe it yet. Slowly she broke, her sobs turning into anguished cries as the realisation of it all hit home.