Taken Too Soon (fictional short story I wrote based on some real life events and feelings)

I’ve become a different person since my husband died. The memories are all I have left now. They’re the only thing that keeps me going. I can still remember the day he died. It is like it was just yesterday, the pain still as great. It was in fact two years ago. We had known that his leukemia was aggressively progressing and we held on to each day like it would be our last together. I remember the day we found out he was sick. It was supposed to be a routine check-up; it wasn’t supposed to change our lives forever. Our lives fell apart that day. I had to face him going from a seemingly completely healthy person to him being so weak he can barely get out of bed. When he spoke you could hear how weak he was in his voice. I had to face sleeping in his arms at night wondering if I was going to wake up next to a corpse the next day. I spent my nights silently crying myself to sleep. I was trying to be strong for him, for us. But in my own world I was slowly falling apart, breaking into pieces like a glass cup that was dropped to the floor.
It was a Wednesday. We awoke that morning the same as any other, the sun coming in through the window coating us in its warmth. It was hard for me to feel things anymore, I was becoming numb. I did not want to feel the pain of the knife that had been stabbed into my heart. I could feel it twisting as the days passed and remembered that the end could be near. It would soon be the end of our future and every thing we dreamed of having together, every thing buried for eternity as I knew his body soon would be. I dressed quickly and began heading into the kitchen to start breakfast. French toast and sausage, that’s his favorite. It made me sick to my stomach to think about eating anymore and it’s not like I enjoyed it anyway. Every thing tastes so bland but he needed his strength to get through the day. He was too ill to skip meals like he used to. His health had been greatly declining the past few months, I knew what was coming. The only question in my mind now was how long? How many more days and nights did we have left together? How many more memories could we make? After all, when his leukemia took him, memories would be all I would have left. I would no longer be able to feel his arms holding me at night. I would no longer be making meals for the both of us. He would be gone and I would be alone.
He stayed in bed that day as he had been doing for the past two months, barely strong enough to even stand anymore. He was so pale he almost blended in with the white sheets on our bed. Like he was a ghost fading into the world around him. I could not stand to use colors because it just made him look sicker. During the day we would lie in bed and hold each other. During the night I’d lay there and silently cry in his arms while he slept.
This night seemed the same as any other. I got dressed for bed and crawled in beside him laying my head lightly on his chest. His heartbeat was weak, his breathing shallow. I held onto him tight through the night and never closed my eyes to sleep. I wept as I listened to his heart and breath weaken and stop. I held him as he lay dying in my arms. By morning he was gone and I was alone, lost in a world of pain and darkness, shedding unending tears for the half of my soul that is now lost forever.

Fatal Escape (fictional short story I wrote)

The girl’s hair whipped in the wind as she stood on the edge of the cliff looking down at the deep, fast-flowing river. She has a choice to make, one that could change her life as well as the lives of all who know her. It is the choice to end her life.
Marie had a bad day again. It seems to be her life story. She awoke for school, as was her usual routine. She proceeded to shower and dress. Dressing in her ratty clothes she’s worn the past three years. Clothes which are faded and torn. She starts walking to the kitchen for breakfast. Her mom never makes breakfast. She sees her mother passed out on the couch, a bottle of vodka tipped over on the floor, the carpet stained with moisture. She’s been drinking all night again. That’s her routine. She walks into the kitchen to get breakfast for herself before school and decides on a bowl of cereal. She likes lucky charms. Her favorite part is the different shaped marshmallows. She pours a bowl and goes to the refrigerator for the milk. The milk is chunky and rotten. Her mother forgot to buy groceries. Marie will have to go to the store after school. No breakfast for her today. She quietly walks over to her mother’s purse to get money for groceries later. She’d stop on her way home. The longer she stays away from home the better. She isn’t wanted at home. Her father left home and said it was because of her. She was always so needy; she should be able to take care of herself. But she’s ten. He was supposed to be taking care of her. Her mother blames her for her father leaving. She beats Marie, leaving bruises that only they know about; Marie hides them from the teachers at school. She calls her bad names. She makes Marie feel unimportant and worthless. Marie keeps the pain locked inside, never telling a single soul what she endures on a daily basis.
She gets on the bus to go to school and sits alone as she does every day, every year. The other kids don’t like her. When she arrives at school she begins walking to her class, it’s supposed to be safe. That day though, the teacher isn’t in the room. The kids start making fun of her. They call her ugly and dirty because she doesn’t have new clothes. She walks to her seat with her head down and her classmates start pulling her long, brown hair. She sits quietly in her seat holding back the tears in her hazel eyes. She taught herself not to cry after the time her mother tried to drown her in the bathtub during one of her horrific beatings because she cried out in pain and anguish.
Marie dreams of a different life but she knows it will never come true. She dreams of a mother and father that are together and love her. She wishes for parents that would never abuse her in any way. Parents that would comfort her and steer her away from this horrible decision she feels she must make.
She feels she isn’t safe anywhere. School is supposed to be safe, all the teachers say so, but Marie isn’t safe anywhere. Maybe when she is dead she will finally feel safety. Is the feeling of safety and security possible for her? She doesn’t know, but she must try. Surely death is better than anything she has experienced in life. Death must be the answer, her only hope.
Marie is the quiet girl in school. She sits in the back of the classroom in the corner staring at the cream colored tile floor. She just wants to curl up and cry. She can’t ever concentrate because she’s too busy worrying about when she gets out of school, when she no longer has anyone to protect her because the people that are supposed to protect her are the ones hurting her. Not that she gets protected at school anyway.
The bell rings and all the students are dismissed. It’s time to go home and face her demons.
“What will I get beat for tonight?” she asks herself quietly. Not that her mother ever needed a reason. Most of the time, she beats her just because she feels like it.
Marie starts to pick her books off the floor to leave but as she looks up she notices all the other kids around her. Bigger kids.
She’s cornered and she starts to shake. The teacher isn’t paying any attention.
“Ms. Williams,” she says, but her teacher doesn’t look up.
Marie cringes as the other kids close in around her. She feels like she’s suffocating and they won’t let her come up for air.
“Hey, what are you kids doing back there?” Ms. Williams asks.
The kids look at the teacher and she realizes that’s her chance. She gathers up her things and bolts from the room. Tears are streaming down her face as she runs down the hall and out through the doors. She begins walking home and remembers she has to stop at the store.
She walks toward the store and passes a dirt road concealed by brush. Curious, she walks down the road wanting to know where it leads to. Besides, she’ll do anything to keep her away from home longer. As she walks farther and farther down the dirt road she hears something familiar. It’s the sound of rushing water.
She comes to a clearing and realizes she’s on the top of a cliff. She inches closer and closer to the edge and looks down. There’s water as blue as the sky on a clear summer day looking as if it’s flowing at a hundred miles per hour. She also sees sharp rocks pointing up at her as if calling to her.
She thinks about dying a lot lately, but especially today. Maybe, just maybe, if she isn’t on this earth she’ll no longer feel the pain she is forced to endure. Each day she feels as if she’s screaming at the top of her lungs for help but no one even looks around to see where it’s coming from. No one cares about her. She’s just another girl.
She stands there looking down, watching the water flow. She takes a single step over the edge and allows herself to fall closer and closer to the beautiful water like a sky diver without a parachute, toward the jagged rocks, into the clear depths that will finally wash away her pain.

Me

Iron bars across my soul.
The life I lead takes a great toll.

Silent tears and whispered dreams.
Can you tell me what this means?

I hide my pain, I show my strength.
I hold people at arms length.

I plaster a fake smile on my face.
You think I'm happy, but that's not the case.

Could you last a day in my shoes?
If it were a game I think you'd lose.

I'm drowning in my body, my soul cannot be free.
I'm not who you think I am, do you know me?

Life or Death

The night is quiet and darker than ever.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, never.


Worry on her face, tears fill her eyes.
She pleads and prays as she looks at the sky.


Tears fall like raindrops, full of sorrow.
Please, Lord, tell me he’ll have a tomorrow.


Their future is filled with wishes and plans.
She waits and waits as patiently as she can.


No one knows what the future will hold.
Whether her future will be happy, or lonely and cold.


Sitting by his bedside is where she wants to be.
Whispering I love you and come home to me.


She tries to stay positive, to give him her fragile heart to mend.
But in the back of her mind she knows this could be the end.

If He Were Gone poem

Heart shredded to pieces, no hope of being fixed.
Sobbing through the pain while looking through the pics.

Memory sequences flashing through my head, can’t seem to let them go.
They’re all I have left now, comforting me in my sorrow.

Each breath I take fills me with pain; I don’t want to keep going on.
I pray each night not to wake again but I’m forced to keep staying strong.

I’ve been sucked into darkness, can’t find my way out.
Without you I’m nothing, you’re all I was about.

I have no life, no world, without you; I know I won’t survive.
I thought the only time you’d leave me was when one of us was no longer alive.

You have my heart and soul, there’s nothing left in me to save.
I won’t be out of my misery until they put me in my grave.

My love for you will always be there, so innocent, pure, and true.
But I no longer want any part of life if no part of my life is you.

So take me out of my misery, put me six feet in the ground.
Because I’d never feel the love again like the love for you I found.