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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() [content warning: death, alcohol] What do you think it felt like, to die all alone on that snowy road? Was he scared? Did he know what was coming when the cars collided? I think the oblivion of it all would be preferable. I hope he wasn’t frightened; I hope he was calm. Alcohol will do that to a man. I don’t want to know what Grandma thought. She was only forty-three, only two living boys at home after losing two more. Four births to only bring home two of your babies will rob anyone of their kindness. At least Momma reminded me of that anytime Grandma was spiteful towards her. At least Momma got to take home all four of her babies. You haven’t taken us to see his grave. Is it because it’s so far away? I’m sure we would all be okay to make the trip. Is it because you don’t remember him well? We don’t judge seven year olds. Is it because you’ve moved on, like your family always does? We do judge when people skip funerals for vacation.
I remember that day Grandma yelled at Momma, and she went running up the stairs like the devil was chasing her. She cried to her own momma, and the world felt so cruel in that moment I thought I was going to burst. What do you think it felt like, to die all alone on that snowy road? Sometimes being around your kin feels the same, so isolated and surrounded by nothing but coldness. I can’t believe that is a part of me. I couldn’t take it out if I tried. Sometimes, I think it consumes until I am cold incarnate. What do you think it felt like, to be as cold as me? Comments are closed.
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May 2023
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