My Thoughts

The Night She Disappeared

It was dark—
cold— 
It was September; but the air felt like November. 
Mom was with Nana, she had been for days, weeks.
I was alone in my room; Luka downstairs with dad.
He called for me to come down.
I was scared, I didn't know what to expect.
The fear rose from the pit of my stomach— and turned into
panic.
He made me sit down,
I wanted to stand.
Nana died today—
Luka burst into tears. He cried, sobbed, choked, his body shook violently.
He asked dad if he can go to soccer—
Dad says Yes.
He runs upstairs.
I stared at the wall.
I felt empty, something was gone. 
Then it hit me, I was never going to see her again.
Her—
perfume.
Her—
frail form.
Her—
gentle face.
Never going to— 
I broke, control my body plagued with sobs;
My dad wouldn't leave me alone, we drove to the fields.
I cried— 
The cold wind nipped my ears and froze the tears.
My dad gave me his coat as Luka ran to his team.
We walked behind, I gripped my father's arm.
The grief— was too much for me. 
I could taste the salty tears on my lips.
I felt the cold on my face.
We walked and walked and walked.
Around and around and around.
Everything else is a blur.
I was angry; at myself for not spending more, time—
I still am.
Yet— grief is like being sick, you feel weak and sad. Hopeless and empty. But it goes away, slowly at first, so it's not contagious, then all at once, until you get sick again.