It was the worst day I ever experienced. She was gone. I could feel my heart ripping to shreds while it tried to make its way out of my chest. The pain wasn’t all mental. It was physical. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t function. I drank more than I ever have. I would spend whole paychecks on a buzz. So that I could just get drunk enough to forget for a split second at least. I didn’t think I would ever make it out. One day I did. I don’t know what happened. The pain was not gone, but I could breathe. I could laugh, and I could smile. I didn’t get over it or forget about it. But, I found a way to live with it.
About the Creator
Randle Ball
A simple southern born American. Have a passion of music, food, drink, and many others. This is my story.
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
📢 Raise Your Voice Thread: 04/25/2024
Our “Raise Your Voice Threads” are hosted every other Thursday at 12PM ET to offer creators more avenues to uncover exceptional stories on Vocal. As we are continuously searching for fresh creators and inspiring stories, this thread provides an opportunity to exchange and discuss the stories that have moved and motivated us on Vocal.
By Raise Your Voice by Vocalabout 19 hours ago in Resources
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.