Why Did She Die?: A Short Story

I should've died that night! Every time I even think about that night, a wave regret washes over me as I too should be dead. It wasn't fair that I got to live and not her; each day is like torture to me. The demon had cut me from her womb and fed me it's demon blood helping me to survive. I have the blood of that thing which killed my mother coursing through my veins and it kills me. I haven't seen her beautiful face, heard her sweet voice or felt her soft hands on my skin, and would image what her presence might feel like. That demon had stripped away my mother and a potentially normal life I would've lived, but instead I was cursed to see the true dangers in society.

The sheer terror of losing a loved one as a child is devastating and often effects the way the child feels for years to come. During the evening of August 27th, 2002 I was making dinner with my grandmother. She was making my sister and me favorite pancakes. I loved spending time with my grandmother, because she always had unconditional love for our entire family. We set the table ate our enormous dinner and then we cleaned up the dishes and proceeded to the couch. While on the couch she supplied me with a snack of popcorn and read to me. After reading the book, my parents, sister and I left the house to go home. Little did I know, as I lay sleeping cozily in my bed, that a phone call would come into my mother, virtually changing the course

We all wanted to know why, why she had done what she did. It was like the million dollar question on who wants to be a millionaire that no one knew the answer to. How it happened is the following, my aunt had gone to her house earlier that Saturday to make a list of the groceries my great-grandma needed for the upcoming week, she left for about an hour and when she returned she couldn’t find my great grandma, she looked everywhere until eventually she found her body hanging spiritlessly from a tree in the backyard. All my family has come to the conclusion that she was depressed; her husband had died just 5 months before of a stroke, her daughters became busier with kids and work therefore more distant, and she lived alone. I know we all wish we could’ve helped her, we all wish we could’ve prevented this; we all wish we could turn back time. My great grandma was someone I cared truly for and I hated having to see her go that way.

We're all going to die. Is this really where I want to be? Stacking printer paper in an office supply store? Death is taking another lick of my lollypop, and god knows how many licks it takes before he gets frustrated and just bites into it.

I remember hearing that and just standing there in silence. When I finally had the breath to say something, I whispered, “You’re messing with me, I know that it is not true.”

It had been less than a week since we were told that my Great-Grandma was dead. We drove all the way to North Dakota for her funeral. When we got there, there was a casket with the pale, lifeless body inside. There was also a lot of people gathered for the funeral, which made a lot of sense considering that my Great-Grandma was 100 years old. After a waiting for while, we walked into a room where we were told how the funeral was going to go, but all I could think about is how real it felt that she was really gone and that I would never see her again. When we sat down in the chapel, I saw a picture of my Great-Grandma and inside my heart pounded and tears swelled. I held in my tears with all the strength I had, but when I saw the casket slowly

I saw my nana and my and grandpa, and I saw my mom and dad talking. As I inched closer to the coffin and stepped on the step stool I saw a pale white body with a face full of makeup with a black long dress. With some type of lace pattern on it then I looked over to my grandpa and saw him sobbing, and saw my great aunt whimpering my nana was trying to help them stop but they couldn't. Then I had a gut wrenching thought, what if my mother or father passed away. What would I and my sister do, even if we were adults. I wanted to cry but my eyes wouldn't allow it.

So my grandma had brain cancer and I remember that i was with my other grandma at grandpa to get away from all of the stress. my mom called and she said that my great aunt betty walked in to see her and my grandma took her very last breath. I started i was packing up to leave to go see her, it was a long pitiful ride, it took 45 minutes to get back to grand rapids, we were in Kalamazoo. sometimes I think that i wanted to be there but it would be even harder for me. I know deep inside me that all things happen for a reason, she got taken out of all of

They’ll leave a silent sob loitering in the back of your throat, a burn that fights before being extinguished.

It was a lovely afternoon. The wind was cool and the air was hot. Let me just say it was an amazing day. Well at least that’s what I thought. Hi i’m lace short for lacy and i’m going to be telling the story of what happened the day i got kidnaped.

That was the moment, when I realized the root of the problems were in me and it overwhelmed me. My mind raced back to my childhood and how I had suffered with headaches, sick pregnancies, right side pain, and numbness in my feet, and a variety of other medical issues. I had never connected the dots. I never thought I was sick, even till that very night. Even though I was being diagnosed with diseases, I continued to simply think I was injured – not sick. The car wreck did destroy the ligaments in my neck, but it brought to light all the other diseases my body hosted. That night, December 13, 2005, was when the light of the truth shined so brightly I wanted to close my eyes. It was the knowledge I had been searching for throughout Miranda’s

All I know is that I’m standing in the lobby of a rundown hotel and a man with his gaze fixed upon me.

At a farmhouse between merging rivers, Montague La-Rose knotted the last rope that held together the bags he’d stacked on his wagon. The farmer twisted and pulled the jute twine tight in the morning sun as its waxing light peaked in the sky. He was five miles from the Capital, already late to deliver the herbs and spices he’d promised the King of Illyrium.

Charles lethargically rolled out of bed to the screeching sound of his alarm one brisk, Tuesday morning. Every Tuesday, instead of attending classes, Charles and his classmates visited Lasata care center where they spent one-on-one time with elderly individuals. Like most of his classmates, Charles dreaded this day every week. Nearly all the residents of Lasata with whom the kids assisted possessed some type of mental disability caused by old age. Due to these mental deficiencies, Charles found it abnormal and awkward to try to make small talk with the different residents he encountered each week. In previous weeks, Charles only established casual relationships; therefore, he set a goal for himself to connect with a resident on an intimate

Months ago, down in Galveston, Texas, my life changed. The first time since his sentence I saw him, yet his last sighting. I am Tod Hinrichtung, and, yes, the last name is German for execution, ironic isn’t it? Today I will finally meet the one I called father, for the last time. His sentence was prolonged for five years. Now that it’s here, I can’t believe it. Mother being gone since birth, and now this, how am I supposed to feel anything, other than sadness?