Breaking Down

any depressing things I decide to write...

As the water warms up, running in little rivets down my back, I lay my forehead against the cool tiles, allowing the water to run down my legs, disappearing into the drain and down into the sewers.

I close my eyes as my muscles begin to relax from the pounding heat. Fighting the sudden stinging behind my eyelids. I will not cry. I have to be strong. For mother. For my sisters.

But, try as I might, the picture of my three sisters clinging to one another, crying, looking at me for reassurance, stays imprinted onto the back of my eyelids. The stinging slowly becomes worse, reaching an unbearable climax resulting in a salty tear falling down my left cheek, down through the air to land in amongst the sewage destined water.

Soon to follow that first tear is another. And another. A never ending torrent of sorrow as the enormity of the past week finaly makes itself clear to me.

My mother. The one who has always been there for us. Who has never failed in her duty to protect us, is gone.


Never to hug me again. Never to hold me tight, hum a soft lullabye she reads a book, sitting in her rocking chair. Never again will I see that slight twitch in her left eye as she scolds me. Never again to watch her mouth fight to retain a grin of amusment at my comebacks.

She is gone. Forever.

I feel myself slide down the wall to land with a thump on my but. But I take no notice of the water now relentlessly attacking my head. Instead I cry. Finally allowing my grief to take its hold on me.

She is gone.


The End

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