The Missing

"Oh no, it's missing," she screamed.

She began tearing the room apart to find it. The lost item, critical in her day to day life was last seen in the bedroom. She looked under the bed fist, the typical hiding place of most wayward items, but it wasn't there. On the dresser perhaps, under the stool, in the closet - no, it wasn't in any of those places.

Just then her husband walked in on the strange scene. "What have you lost now," he asked. She looked up from the pile of clothes she had been digging through. One look at her face told him all he needed to know.

"Where was it the last time you saw it?" he asked in a panic as he joined the search.

"I left it right there on the dresser last night. Now I'm late for work and I can't find it. I couldn't possibly leave the house without it."

"Why don't you take better care of your things? I'd never be so careless with mine," he said and she tossed him a fierce scold.

"It's not there," said a voice in the door way. Resting against the frame of the door stood their sixteen year old daughter. The rebel teen queen stood glaring at them.

"Where is it?" asked the girl's mother. "Answer me this minute, what have you done?"

"I've destroyed it. I've destroyed your precious mask mother. Now you'll have to show the world your real face not the one you've so carefully crafted to hide any trace of who you truly are.

"I must say this though; it was a shame to destroy something so beautiful. As I orchestrated its destruction I let my mind wander back to its creation. I imagine it must have been light to begin with. A thin veneer of minor deceptions but with each lie the plaster of pretence grew heavier. It's too heavy now mom and I could no longer watch as your soul was slowly crushed beneath it," she calmly explained.

"How could you?" screamed the girl's mother.

"How could I not, after all I've seen. Mom if you only knew how often I've watched you. I've seen your secret routine. I've seen the way you tip toe back into consciousness each morning. You look both ways to see if the coast is clear and you live. You live, for that one moment you're completely unfettered, a wild unbound soul whose destiny has yet to be charted. Your dreams have not yet been shelved. Then you see it; your partner stirring beneath the covers or the time on your alarm clock ticking closer to some appointed hour and immediately you make a mad dash for your mask.

"We all wear masks. I understand that, I do. A face we show to the world sometimes to protect our self but you've worn yours so long and so often that I doubt you know what you're really like underneath it all."

The girl's mother burst out into tears.

"But it's what they expect of me, it's who they want me to be..." she sobbed.

"Oh yes they, that dreaded jumble of collected souls the have come together with the sole purpose of crushing yours," she said sarcastically.

"Why didn't you destroy his then?" asked the mother. The girl's father clutched his own face in fear.

"In my opinion he's not as far gone as you. I was hoping that once he heard what I had to say he'd give me his. I was hoping he'd have the courage to be himself and that on some days, like today he'd choose not to wear the mask at all. She stretched out her hand expectantly.

Her father looked at himself in the mirror and suddenly for the first time in what may have been years he saw himself staring back. He had removed the mask but the real question was whether or not he could keep it off. Could you?

Keisha Grant: Born on September 15th 1985 , Keisha L. Grant lives in the south of Trinidad. She has previously been published in the online magazine Shine.

Email: Keisha Grant

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