Skip to main content

Diana Mazariegos

 

Denial is the first stage of grief. Celeste knew this. It was seven minutes until the clock struck midnight, and the sounds of the bustling city next door filled the living room. Yet the sound of the busy congested night did not fill the void. She couldn’t help but still feel so lonely. Celeste knew that her time was ending. The thought of it made her want to drop to her knees, but she never knew what had gone wrong. Did she want to know why? 

To block the thoughts that consumed her, she turned on the television and switched channels until she found one that featured the latest news. Her body slouched down into the couch, and so she drew her attention to the news. However, the ticking of the clock on the wall had only attracted her eyes more. It was six minutes until midnight. Her hand reached out to the side of the couch where a photo frame rested on a small coffee table. She lifted it and brought it closer to her, her hands shaking. It was a beautiful summer day with no clouds in the sky. In the picture, she wore a large white gown alongside a well-groomed man, who towered over her. They were both smiling and everyone who surrounded them looked just as happy. Behind them was the beautiful scenery that was carefully picked to display the beginning of the spring bloom. Her grasp on the frame tightened as she pulled it to her chest, and suddenly the memories filled her mind. The way that he used to hold her. The way he used to care. The way he used to love her. It was different now. Each night seemed like he stayed out longer and longer. Each night was a different smell. Sometimes it was the smell of weed mixed with a cheap blended smell of fragrance or the scent of citric that she smelt, but it was the powerful mixture of vanilla, cinnamon, and rose that she smelt so often that had become so rancid to her nosrils. 

As she continued to recollect the memories, the slam of the front door brought her back to place, catching her so off guard that she dropped the picture frame. It fell on the ground, but she was quick to pick it up and place it back in its original location. Her eyes darted to the clock. One minute until midnight. She brought herself to her feet and turned her attention to the small hallway. Slowly, she began making her way towards it where she was greeted by a tall man who stumbled forward to her. Without hesitation, Celeste reached to wrap her arms around him. It took a few seconds before the man decided to respond by pulling her close to his chest. This close, Celeste inhaled the smell of cheap alcohol on his breath that mixed with the scent she hated so much. It wasn’t long until thoughts and questions rushed through her mind. Where had he been? Why was he so late? Why did he smell like that? Yet, there was one question that she wasn’t sure if she wanted answered–and that was whether she actually wanted to know.

 


Diana Mazariegos is a student majoring in criminal justice with a minor in sociology. She plans to graduate with the class of 2024, two years after having completed her Associates Degree at MCCC.

Diana wrote this story in a Creative Writing course taught by Professor Lindsay Haber. Haber selected the piece for inclusion WHR.