It was a hot, July morning and the sun was at its fullest. Erin woke up, but didn’t see it. She never saw the sun. She let out a big sigh, and crawled out of bed. She shuffled down the short hallway, and sat on the edge of the stairs. She reached out her hand and gripped the oak railing. It was smooth, and cool to the touch. While closing her eyes, Erin pushed off the railing to get the momentum she needed to slide down the long flight of carpeted stairs. She kept sliding until she reached the ground, but once she did, she didn’t want to get up. Just like every time. She never wanted to get up, never wanted to eat, never wanted to think. All Erin wanted to do was forget everything. Pets, family, even friends. Especially friends. They can never come back. They’re gone, and can never come back. This thought haunted her every waking moment of every day. She knew that if she really wanted to, she could do exactly what they did. After all, she knows where her dad had kept his gun.
Minerva Writes Poems
April 1, 2010