Ctrl, Alt, Delete.

It's not my own death I'm scared of. It's other peoples deaths I have to live with.

Losing a family member is unlike anything.

You attempt to shut your body down completely, to glaze over every bit of your brain until you cannot feel anything nor admit to yourself what has happened. You have to relearn how to walk. Each step you take is hesitant, every one of the words you string together in a sentence never seem to fit together as perfectly as they once did. Whether your religious or not, it makes you question God. In an attempt for realization, you try to convince yourself everything happens for a reason. But if God did this for a reason, what would that reason be? Whos is he doing all this for?

Certainly not us, we are the ones who must die.

 

Eventually all the friends who swore to keep you company when that idiot boy you wasted your time selfishly crying over decides he's had enough of your fragmented sentences leave, because they too cannot handle another night in a frozen car counting the streetlights before your finally finished.

Eventually all the reviewers on WritersCafe who seemed so sure of your talent will stop reviewing, stop praising, and eventually find the next best thing. Someone new with a stronger voice and a better sense of how things should be said will come along and you will be nothing but a link left on a page.

Eventually every bit of HamburgerHelper your mother left on the plate in hopes that your father will come home will mold, and she too will begin to waste away, and you pray that someday you will not follow.

Eventually , I will be nothing but a statistic

and maybe it will happen for a reason

but at least I know it will happen

and for now, that's all I can count on.

 

Author's Note

Just thought I should clear that up.

Reviews

[J.Black]

"Losing a family member is unlike anything.

You attempt to shut your body down completely, to glaze over every bit of your brain until you cannot feel anything nor admit to yourself what has happened. You have to relearn how to walk. Each step you take is hesitant, every one of the words you string together in a sentence never seem to fit together as perfectly as they once did. Whether your religious or not, it makes you question God. In an attempt for realization, you try to convince yourself everything happens for a reason. But if God did this for a reason, what would that reason be? Whos is he doing all this for?

Certainly not us, we are the ones who must die."


Wow, I recently wrote a diary piece of death and man, I can relate.

[Zatoichi]

"T'is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Shakespeare

The best quotes become cliches because the truth therein cannot be improved upon; the above is an example.

The first paragraph captures perfectly the shock of death for those left behind.

Who died. Z