Clawing at the Rocks

June 10, 2012
Custom User Avatar
More by this author
Ring, ring! Loud as a siren,
a call shattered the silence.
Outside,
the moon had begun her shift.

My rigid father,
ghastly news.
He trudged past,
face obscuring emotion.

The bathroom,
click.
A barrier.
Hushed whispers beyond converged
with chilling silence.

Thump,
walls trembled fearfully.
Cries like a whimpering dog
enveloped me.

I couldn't understand.
Hunched over the bed,
my father waited.
What's happened?
I thought.

But I knew.
My mother's sister,
my mother's best friend,
my aunt,
perished without farewell.

My cousin,
incapable of saving his mother.
CPR,
fifteen agonizing minutes.
Yet still,
silence.

Pills hid her pain.
The overdose exposed ours.
One too many.
Catapulting her body
into an everlasting cold.

Me,
no aunt.
My mother,
no sister.
No friendly welcome
at her door.
Now a solemn man
forcing a smile upon his face.

Heart beating fast
as a hummingbird's wings,
the room danced
circles around me.

Strong.
Strong for me.
Strong for me my mother was,
until that dreadful night.

Whining to wailing.
Wailing to sobbing.
Sobbing to choking.

Pain consumed her.
Unraveling like a loose knot
in my father's arms,
I watched as she drowned in waterfalls of sadness.

Grief formed a tall stone wall around her.
Attempting to climb,
I slipped.
Left clawing at the rocks,
I pleaded for her strength.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback