I hear nothing but the sounds of my pounding feet, and my heavy breaths for air. I run; I run in the black shoes that pinch at my toes, making my feet sore and covered in blisters. I hold my skirts up high so that I do not stumble upon them, as one weight-less foot carries on after the other. I carry on as my stomach starts to sicken; as I feel something being forced up from deep within my body. And then, I can't take it anymore.
I topple over the root of a tree, and I fall to my knees. I am doubled over, and I choke out something foul smelling from the back of my mouth. Vomit. That's what it is. I vomit whatever meal I ate only hours ago, wanting myself to be no part of it--and what it carries. I empty my stomach, until nothing but clear liquid escapes from within me.
And then I take off. I hold my skirts up even higher, until the leaves of the tree branches above form a canopy over my head. I know that I need to stop. I know this when my lungs abruptly scream for air. They wail as my heart sides with them, pounding against my rib cage; pounding at me until it hurts.
"Fine!" My words come out as merely a whisper. I show mercy to my selfish organs and stop, and I hit my back against the rough bark of a tree. I know that I have run at least ten kilometers, though I feel as though she still pulls at me. Dragging me into the grief and sorrow I do not wish to feel. But she proves to be too strong.
A sob escapes my mouth, and I push the heels of my palms to my eyes, pleading for the tears to stop. My nose runs, and I use the sleeve of my black dress to wipe it. Streams of water slip through my palms, and race down my arm.
My fingers take hold of a large rock, and I throw it into the mount of a tree. Antagonistic, I smile. The rock hits the side of a bird's nest, its force causing it to jerk up. A bird flaps its wings, and escapes to a safer place. I lost my mother, and so will her young.
A gentle wind caresses my face, and the feel reminds me of her. I search for another rock; I search for anything that could lead to damage. I pound my fists against the tree, and a terrible sound pierces my ears. It takes me only a moment to realize that the sound is coming from me. I feel as if my whole body screams as I do. I feel the burns in my muscles; the rawness of my throat. No--it is more than that. I feel myself as though I am being lifted, as though I am no longer within my heavy body. I welcome the feeling, as the screeching sound carries on.
But then I am taken down. Familiar arms wrap around my body, and I hear the rigid breathing of his breath in my ear. We are both on the floor, entangled with each other. He held me as he did when I was nothing but a mere child: calming me; protecting me. He has shown no such affection is such a long period of time, that I had forgotten how much I loved it.
Together we sob; we sob over the woman we loved. Our hearts beating as one; our breathing in rhythm with one another. Together we grieve; father and child.
She still pulls at me; so strongly that she makes it hard for me to breathe. I feel my father's rough hand in my hair, gently stroking it with his fingers.
She will not let go. No; no I know she won't. She will tug at me for the rest of my days, and I don't know if I can take it. Though my father holds on to my petite figure; he holds on to me for strength. If I go, he will go too--who knows how far the chain will go. I have to hold on, even if she does not let me go. I have to; I must. Otherwise, she will not be the only one leaving this world behind.
Note: I had originally uploaded this writing of the same name on a website called 'Writerscafe.org' by means of the username 'Kayliee'. To view the writing, please copy the link below.
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/PeaKiHope1998/976620/
