Grief

The sky that evening was a pink and purple mist. It mocked me. The trees shivered as the cool breeze hurried by. I sat alone. I looked out over the cliff down to the ocean. It used to be my favorite place to come. It still is now, just in a different way. My hair is still damp from the storm and its angry cries that had passed. My cheeks are still raw from so many shredded tears. I hear my little brother walking up to me from behind. He lies down and puts his head in my lap. I can feel his mournful tears seeping through my jeans. I can feel his body tremble as he snivels. I brush my hand through his limp and murky brown hair. I don’t want to move, don’t want to get up. I have no yearning to move on with life, and my ticket to end it is right there. All it would take is one step over the alluring cliff. To plummet down into the crashing waves of the ocean…to plummet down into peace and eternity. The world has betrayed me so many times. I’m sick of falling down and working to stand back up only to be pushed right back down again. But I can’t do that, can’t end my suffering, because he’s here. He is still with me. I need to be here for him, to not cause him any more pain then he has already endured in his young life. I want him to live, to experience the good in the world, because there is good. There has to be. And who is to say if I make the jump that he won’t make it with me. So I won’t take that chance. I’ll keep living. For him.