Bright lights.

A whole day had passed her by without realising it, so quickly and silently; yet she wasn't concerned, she was content at reading his words all day.

Walking down the stairs, bright flashing lights lit her living room up.  People were gathering in the street, trying to vie against each other for the best view.  Loud knocks kept repeating themselves on the front door and at the bottom of the stairs, she stood still.

Coldness wrapped itself around her - she shivered and all hope and happiness was drained from her, allowing fear and sadness to fill her empty shell.  With a quivering hand, the door was opened, bright light stuck her eyes and she glanced away.  Seconds later, she looked back at who stood in the doorway to her house; two police officers.

Tears filled her eyes and before anything was said, she knew why they were here, here at her house years after the accident; years after her son left her in the hospital room.

As they sat down in her living room, she looked at the clock above the mantle piece; it had stopped ticking and had stopped tracking time with its face frozen at 3.32 pm, a snapshot of the clock's emotion. 

Silence sat to her left and death on her right, she was caught in the middle between the two.  They occupied her thoughts and blocked out all sound from the outside world.  A heavy sigh escaped her lips and all she could do was stare at the faded piece of paper she held in her hands, staring at his words that he wrote, the only thing that connected a mother to her son.  Time didn't care for her anymore, it continued to pass by without hesitation and all she could do was weep for him.

She wept with all the sadness and sorrow in her heart, rocking herself in her chair by the window, knocking off the cup of tea placed on the table from the day before and releasing her inner demons to the outside world.  Her only son: her son that she loved and cherished every single day, being there for him when he felt the world was against him was dead; she, a mother couldn't save her only son.

Acceptance placed a hand on her shoulder and comforted her; he was gone, but he wasn't to blame; her son did nothing wrong that day of the accident.

The End

16 comments about this story Feed