Life is like a box of chocolate...that's been dropped on the ground and devoured by ants
I was having a really hard time explaining what had happened.
I couldn’t look away from the IV sticking out of arm and wondering stupidly what the technical term was for the clear liquid that was now pumping through my veins.
Angrily my father snapped his fingers in front of my face for what I was sure couldn’t be the first time, or even the second.
“Don’t think that because you landed yourself in the hospital that you’re not in deep water, Lana,” he growled. My mother sobbed loudly at his poor choice of words.
His tone renewed my sense of silence. Why tell them what they didn’t really want to hear? No amount of explaining all of the reasons that my dad’s truck was now at the bottom of a lake would be good enough. There were no reasonable excuses in a parent’s eye for their child to attempt suicide.
I simply closed my eyes one more time and let the darkness take hold.