NO.11; A LETTER TO A DECEASED PERSON YOU WISH YOU COULD TALK TO
FEBRUARY 7th, 2014
Dear Mum,
Oh God. My hands are shaking as I write this. I don't think you understand how nervous I am right now. Yours is the letter I've been dreading the most because I have so much to say to you that I don't know where to begin and every time I even try to start a letter, I've barely written a sentence before the anxiety and fear and all the grief that's taken so long to wade through comes crashing back in tsunami like waves. Even as this pen scrawls across these pages, I can feel the sorrow rising in my chest and I know it will swallow all the air in my lungs and leave me breathless. Mum. I don't know what to say. I never know what to say. I'm useless like that. I guess –
Shit. I'm crying now.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I thought I could do this. I thought I could write this letter without blubbering like an idiot. I thought I'd put this behind me. I thought I'd shed all the gloom but I think I kept it inside me. I think I've kept all this rage and darkness for so long it's seeped deep into my skin and bones that it's become a part of me. Mum. I guess, there's only three words I can say.
I miss you.
Some days I miss you so much I'm afraid I'll die from the pain. Some days I wish I would.
Mum, please –
No. No. I can't do this.
I can't. I can't stop crying and my tears are soaking the letter, it's messing up the ink.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
I thought I could do this but I can't. I'm weak. I thought I was iron but really I'm glass.
I'm sorry. I'll try again. I promise.
Love, Morgana.
YOU ARE READING
The Dreamer ✓
Teen FictionOne day, Morgana decides to pick up a pen and write a series of letters addressed to those she loves and hates. In these letters, she reveals her deepest fears and darkest secrets, in these letters she tells of the only boy she's ever loved and in t...
