It’s dark here. It’s cold and quiet. I can’t hear a thing because of the loud silence screaming in my ears. Faces are blurred and names escape my memory. I don’t want to remember. I want nothing. I deserve nothing. I failed her.
It’s empty in here. Faith is here with me; she’s holding my hand, but my can’t feel her. I can’t feel a goddamn thing. It stings. I can’t feel her anymore. She’s not there. I don’t even remember what it felt like anymore. I can’t feel a goddamn thing.
This silence is so loud. The darkness hurts my eyes and I still feel tied down to that bed. I remember the blurred faces of the men who took my life away. They were cold and heartless. They smiled at me as they ripped her away. It hurt so bad. It hurt worse than every single bolt of electricity that ran through my body the night I ended my own life.
They didn’t even let me hold her.
She was crying for me. I know she was. She was crying for me and I couldn’t help her. I was crying for her and she was gone. I can hear her screaming. It’s ripping at my brain, tearing me apart. Her screams hurt worse than that electricity.
Maybe mom and dad were right. Maybe none of this is real. Maybe I’m still in that hospital and the last ten years never happened. Maybe I’m not real. Maybe I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I’m gone.
I want my mom. I want her to hold me and tell me it’s okay. I want her to rock me and let me cry the way I should be doing with her.. She was crying for me and I couldn’t tell her it’s going to be okay.
I can’t hear her crying anymore…. Why can’t I hear her crying anymore!? Where did they take her!? Where did they take my baby!?
Oh my god.
She’s gone…—-she’s gone..