Just Let Go

A year had gone by, that’s right a whole year, and it feels like it’s been a lifetime ago since I had written In my journal, yeah journal is the best word for it because diary seems too childish and even though I’ve barely turned 16 now, it feels as if I much wiser than my 15 year old self. Death seems to do that to you – make you grow up.

“Hey Dad, look what I found through all my stuff today,” I said aloud. I was sitting in the graveyard, going through a detailed story of what I’ve been up to in the last year, ”I know I haven’t used it properly, but what did you expect?,” there was a loud silence pounding through my ears at the lack of response, and I knew it was going to be a sad day today, ”It was my birthday yesterday, obviously you know, and guess how I spent it? I’ll just give you the answer, alone. I know that’s boring and a little pathetic, but honestly it was nice. I’ve barely had a second a lone since the burial.

Anyway I was unpacking all my things when I came across it in a box. I was surprised it was still here, I thought I had burnt it with the rest of the shit I was given last year, excuse my language, ”I sighed running my hands around the book. It was sturdy and when you opened it the pages were silky and soft. I loved it at first, but now it’s just another reminder that he gone, “I just wanted to say I miss you, and that it’s just gotten harder since you’ve left. Nothing is the same.”

I stood up from his gravestone placed the pink and yellow roses down on top and wept. Tears surged from my eyes splattering against the edge of the stone. It was the first time I cried in a year. It felt like everything that has happened in this past year has finally enveloped me. All the emotions I held back finally have crept up to the surface and I’m letting them go now, for my fresh start.

It was a bitch getting from my dad to the new house. It was dark and I was crying, but I pulled through knowing that my bed was sitting waiting for me to get there and rest my head. Unfortunately my bed wasn’t the only one waiting up for my.

My mother was sitting on the couch. She looked amazing, as usual, her long blonde hair wavy and voluminous. She had a high-waisted black pencil skirt over a pretty cream ruffled blouse. She had one leg crossed over the other, straight posture and a stern look on her face. Anyone that didn’t know her might have been intimidated, but I did so I wasn’t. Her blue eyes bored into mine as I stood at the front door. I sighed, ”I didn’t think you’d wait up. It’s not like you ever have before.” I began taking off my shoes as she scoffed.

“Do you know what time it is Carey? It’s 2 in the morning; I want to know where you’ve been now.”

“Dad,” I choked out, ”I went to see Dad.”

“Why would you do such a ghastly thing? I thought we talked about this-“

“No you talked and I listened, but we never made any agreements. Dad is and always will be a part of me and I had to see him today. You would know that if you didn’t have a guy every night in your bed since he’s been gone,” I snapped before walking towards my room. I was angry. You’d think my mother, my father’s wife, would want to visit him today, but clearly that’s not the case.

“Carey I’ve had it. If it weren’t for your mistake, your father would be here with me, and we would be happy. We would all be happy,” I turned to face her stunned; “You think I didn’t know? He had an asthma attack Carey and you’re the only one that reminds him of his inhaler, and yet you gave him an empty one. It’s your fault for all of our unhappiness, just like it’s your fault we had to move.”

I didn’t think she knew, I didn’t think anyone knew. I raced to my room slamming the door shut. I couldn’t be around her. I couldn’t bear to feel that anguish—the guilt. I drove myself crazy over the last year trying to forget, trying not to blame myself. The tears began flooding and I kept muttering ”I’m sorry” into my pillow until I fell asleep.