Bring Her Back

Bring her back

She’s dead. The one thing I had to live for in this world was now dead. The night before, I had a dream I couldn’t explain. I shrugged it off as if it had just been another dream. Then the following morning, at around 10 o’clock, we had received a call (one that wasn’t to come for another 40 years). She had finally been taken from us. The devastation and trauma was clearly stamped on my mother’s “in denial” face. I went up to my room and locked the door. It took a good 10 minutes for the news of our loss to sink in. Only then did I figure out that the shattering glass was my peace of mind being pulverized. Doesn’t God know it’s cruel to take the pacifier from a baby that just stopped its wailing? Not even being able to see her face even one last time and tell her I love her. It’s a pain I dare not think about even today. The world was bright and shining that day, not the way I wanted it to look, although. Over and over I would scream and yell for the sun to go away and bring her back to me; but neither was granted. Those days were definitely my darkest and lowest days. It still hurts, but I could bear with my family’s support. My mother no longer cries, my brother fights day by day to keep it out of his mind, and I still cry in secret…For she was my one and only grandmother.