𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴- of grey skies and winter days; filled with heavy clouds or fog; relating to winter or cold, sunless weather
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🚨Trigger Warning🚨
Screaming.
It's all I can hear.
I can practically taste my fear as I try to open Momma's door. She's in there all alone right now. It's my fault. I shouldn't of left her to fend for herself against her invisible demons. God, why am I so utterly useless!?
Her screams become more frantic as I struggle with the door trying to open it, but she must've locked it earlier. Stupid doors, stupid locks! I'm such a failure!
Then I remember something, there's a key for her door downstairs!! Adrenaline corses through my veins as I practically leap down the stairs. My shaky hands come into contact with the cool metal handle attached to a drawer of our countertop as I hastily yank it open. I skim through the various trinkets that are placed in our junk drawer but I can't seem to find the key, especially not in the dark. There's a cork, some pens, a pair of scissors, even a button! But not a key. I begin to lose hope when I catch a glimpse of an object with a key-like shape. That's it!
Forcefully taking hold of the key, I sprint back up the stairs to Momma's door. On the other side, my mother seems to be wailing out of fright.
"Don't worry Momma, I'm coming!" I say trying to comfort her as I try with my entire being to open the darn door. The key jiggles back and forth, back and forth.
Out of nowhere, everything becomes eerily silent besides the jiggling of the key. With a 'click' the door finally opens and I burst into the room. I wish I wouldn't of though because the sight that greats me is one only described in horror movies.
Things are thrown carelessly about the room, pages of books are torn out and lying messily on the floor. The bed is completely undone and her desk chair is toppled over sideways. The supplies that used to be neatly aligned on Momma's desk are now strewn everywhere. But none of that is the worst part. No, the worst part is in the middle of all the chaos, my momma's fragile body is lying on the floor in a pile of her own blood.
I race over to her and cry out for her only to see a knife in her hands and a cut running down her stomach. I'm no doctor, but I know for sure that she isn't surviving this. I gasp in horror as tears streak my face.
"Momma, what happened?" I gently ask, not willing to comprehend the scene in front of me.
"M-momma's ti-ime in th-e w-world is ov-ver," she whispers in a weak and pained voice.
I envelope her shivering body in my weak arms wishing that all of this was just some sick nightmare. Momma couldn't really be dying could she? It's not possible, but it is. Death is something all to real.
"Don't leave me, please Momma," I beg as tears stream down my pale face.
"I-i'll alwa-ys be with yo-ou r-right he-ere," she whispers and points a single finger towards my heart.
"I love you Momma, I always will."
"I l-love y-ou to-o m-my swee-t a-angel-l," she says weakly.
I hold onto her silently sobbing my heart out as I try to relish the last moments I have with Momma.
It's only when she takes one final breath and her heart finally gives out that I succumb to my grief. I sob for hours about everything all at once. I cry for the birthdays we'll never share, for the art I won't be able to show her, and the cookies we won't be able to bake. But most of all, I'll miss her hugs and the comfort she brought me.
It doesn't even matter that I've never left the house because I still had Momma. She was always there for me and I was always there for her. And now, she's gone. It all happened to soon. She wasn't supposed to go yet! I still need her, how am I supposed to live now that she's gone?
I don't know.
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