Mrs Wilt: Organisation.

Tuesday

Mark papers on-

What's the point. I'm only trying to be organised to keep my mind off it. God...I just can't cope. My baby boy, my little Chace...Why? You hear all these horrible horrible stories in the papers about children going missing or being killed and you think, it's terrible. But you do not know how terrible it is. It tears me up in the mornings when I wake up and remember he's gone. My baby...

They've offered me leave, for my "grieving", they call it. But I couldn't just leave my job. Then my days would be free for thinking. Right now I don't want to think at all. I just end up thinking of how I'll never hold my boy again, never tell him to keep the music down, never...

Sorry. I shouldn't be just offloading myself like this. I should be good, carry on with my work, forget the sinking feeling whenever there is the shuffle of books as the bell signals the end of each lesson. Each lesson over is nearer to going home. Thomas has just broken down. I don't blame him...He's taken his period of mourning from work, and that's another reason why I have to keep teaching. I just can't see him like that.

Oh, Chase...

The End

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