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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #800871
A short piece about my father's broken heart.
Sadness hung thick in the air that day, like a gray, suffocating cloud. It's unbearable claws slowly crept in through his chest and gripped mercilessly to his heart. The jolting pain sent tears cascading down his cheeks. He slowly looked up at the dim atmosphere though blurry vision. "How did I let this happen?" his mind screamed, "Why is she gone?!?"

His whole body trembled with strain, as he withheld his urge to sprint towards the lowering casket. His own mother swung slightly in the black box that was finally set in its grave. "How did this monster get her?" he asked himself further, "How didn't I see it coming?"

Visions of the months passing before that day, flashed before his eyes. She had gotten weaker and weaker with The Monster that ate her body away. The Monster was cancer. Every day, the life of color in her face seemed to drain, the sparkle in her eye dimmed, the strength in her touch faded. Now there was nothing left. How would he live? How would the family live? He was only 14.

He stood there shaking, and looked over to his father. His dad stayed motionless as tears damped his face and shirt. "Who will take care of us?" he thought again. Not him. Never him. He clamped his eyes shut as an overwhelming inner pain struck him. He shook his head back and fourth then in a moment of anger, he ran. He ran as fast as he could away from all this. From them. From everything. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his sister calling from the grave sight, "Michael, come back!"
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