escritura Letters From The Other Side

saramanusson posted on Mar 20, 2012 at 11:53PM
This is part of a story i'm working on. It's about a guy who's wife is death and so he writes these letters to her, describing what he feels and what goes on in his and their daughters lives.

Please let me know what you think :)

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hace más de un año saramanusson said…
Dean Claire

When i wake up in the morning, there's a short moment before i open my eyes, where i pray that this is just a nightmare and when i open my eyes you're gonna lie on the bed next to me. Then i open my eyes, and i'm alone. And so my day starts.

When i realize that you're really gone, this feeling comes over me, darkness, and i feel like i'm tied to the bed like i couldn't get up even if i wanted to. And i just lie there, staring at the ceeling telling myself to get up. But i can't. It's like my body isn't listening, my brain is saying one thing and my body another. Sometimes i lie there for hours, the first couple of months after you died that's as far as i got. I couldn't even get out of bed, i just lied there all day, waiting. It's getting a little better though, know i get up when i hear the girls, that helps, that i have something to get up for.

But it's only for a second. Cause when i get up, the feeling comes back over me, stronger this time. And i feel like my legs are made of rubber, like they can't carry me and it's only a matter of time before i fall. I get dizzy, but i'm not really dizzy, i just feel like it. I walk around in a daze, the volume around me turned down. Like everything just floats by me.

I make it to the kitchen, where the girls are eating breakfast. It used to be pancakes, bacon, your homemade buns, hot choholate milk now it's the cheap cereal from Wallmart. They eat their breakfast and hardly says a word. The breakfast who used to be filled with laughter and dream telling is now silent.

My entire days goes by like that. I walk around in my daze, looking at things i never cared about but suddenly would give anything to see again. Like the house, our house had all these silver vases, all wall full of pictures, fresh flowers, lightchains rapped inside a vase with petals from your favorite flower, tons of silver candlesticks. You must have really loved silver, or maybe it was just in. I don't know i never asked. I never told you this, but i really loved all those things, even though i didn't give to much about it i realize now that it's the things that make a house a home. And our house, had you written all over it. Unlike the new house, there's nothing on the walls, except for a Bon Jovi poster and a Red Sox flag.

I can hardly look at the girls, cause all i see is something you wont. Every smile is a smile you'll never see. Every laugh is a laugh you'll never hear. Every story they tell is a story you wont hear. And it breaks my heart just thinking about it. But there's something i thank god that you can't see. It's this look is their eyes, i swear it goes right to your heart and it twists a small knife around. And there's a sound that i'm glad you can't hear, it's the sound that comes from their rooms late at night, when they think i'm a sleep. It's the crying. Everytime i see that look or i hear that sound i die just a little more on the inside.
last edited hace más de un año
hace más de un año NordicVeronica1 said…
This is beautiful - and I find it intriguing. Somehow - I always failed to right realistic stories like these: I'm better off with fiction. But I do enjoy reading works like these - they're absolutely gorgeous.
Thank you for posting this: though it made me slightly sad, it was definitely a good read. Keep up the good work!