May 25, 2006

My face was pale
My heart was pounding in my ribcage
My mind void of any thought.
My father pushes me into the room though I shake my head widely, or at least in
my mind I was.
Don't go in. Don't want to. No.
Ignoring the red eyes, and blotchy faces
I'm finally at the bedside.
It's only then do I let my tears fall.
My mind screaming with guilt,
I should have been there.
I shouldn't have left the house.
Was it only a few hours ago when I held her hand and told her I loved
her?
How long ago was it when sang me to sleep?
How many years had passed when she taught me everything?
I should have been there.
I should have been at her bed side.
That was the day I cried my heart out, only wishing for it to stop. That
she would come back. A voice screaming in the back my mind to bring her
back,

"SHE ISN'T GONE. NOT GONE. IT CAN'T BE. IT CAN'T BE."


May 26, 2006

My alarm clock rings, but it doesn't matter.

I wasn't asleep anyways.

I had cried until it became useless dry sobs.

At that point I realized this was pointless and I stared at the ceiling for another 5 hours.

School.
I had managed to get dressed and into my carpool without crying.

I made a feeble attempt to laugh at a joke, signaling that something was
wrong.

Then I thought of the pack of cards in my bag.

I couldn't take it.

Muffled cries could be heard from the back of the car.

I'm gladher mother hadn't asked.

I again put on a blank face and went to pack.
As soon as I saw my French teacher though.....I broke down again.

I had always thought she reminded me of her.

And there I spilled all my emotions.

I was sent to the school counselor.

What a load that did....An excuse to go to the chapel to pray.

I didn't pray.

I just sat there.

Staring ahead.

About to breakdown.

I got through the rest of the day by putting on a face.

A mask I guess you would say.

I made jokes, I laughed, I pretended everything was fine.

No one asked about how I was doing.

In my mind I was crying, sobbing, screaming wanting to wake up.

A voice in the back of my, which I've called my child self because this voice has no reason just wants, demanding me to see her.

I couldn't. She was gone.


May 27 & 28, 2006

I think I gave up and let my mask take over. I laughed, never cried.
Constantly laughing.
My inner voice refusing me sleep.
Whispering words of guilt and horror into my ears.


May 29, 2006

Exams.

Had to take exams.

Blank face, always studying.

I never comprehended the words on the page.

Currently pissed at my friends because they haven't asked how I'm feeling and if I'm okay.
You know its fine; I'll deal with it on my own.
I didn't need them.
Finish exams, Study more for the next exam.

I wouldn't be taking it tomorrow but no use in not studying.
For once the inner voice is quiet, letting me study, though restless at night crying out for
her.


May 30th, 2006

I'm dressed.

A black skirt, white shirt and high heels.

Tucking my bangs behind my ear because I knew she'd like that.

I'd be skipping school today to go to the funeral.

I kept my tears in for most of the visitation hours.

Making small talk with her friends.

Over 200 people showed up.

She had a lot of friends; that made me smile.

When I could I made my way over to my mother taking her hand and giving her a
reassuring squeeze.

She didn't look like her up close in the casket.

Too much make up was applied to her face and clothes were too big for her.

The mass.

They played her favorite song, when Irish Eyes Are Smiling.

I cried.
Trying desperately to keep control.

Attempt Failed.

My inner child's voice was SCREAMING not to let them take her away.

"DON'T TAKE HER AWAY. DON'T CLOSE THE CASKET. SHE ISN'T DEAD. GRANDMA
ISN'T DEAD. DON'T. PLEASE. WHY AREN'T YOU DOING ANYTHING? HELP HER. HELP
HER!"

But despite the war in my head I eventually calmed down.

Reading over the message she had left.

Telling us not to cry that she is gone.

So I made myself stop. She wouldn't want me crying.

The wake.

Was nice, beautiful flowers and beautiful service.

I said my final goodbyes along with leaving that childish voice behind.

It could stay there crying for her too get up.

I wouldn't.

I had to move on with my life like grandma wanted me to.
Gram's voice ringing loudly in my ears:

"What are you going to do when I die?"
"I'll miss you. And die from being so lazy."
"(laugh) That's because I make you do everything!"
"(laugh) yep!"

And now...I realize my answer is different.
I'm going to be strong like she told me to be.

I'm going to do better in school.

I'm going to become a better person.

Live up to her expectations.
So when I meet her again I'll be able to grin and say

"It didn't matter that you were dead, you still whooped my ass until it
was red. And I got to doing all those things you said."


I love you, Grams

Classic Trick