I opened my eyes, it’s morning, I muttered curses and shut them again, I can’t live another day like this…, I gulped back the tears.
My alarm buzzed again; I turned it off; my phone rang; I put it on silent and rolled over; I opened my eyes as sleep had evaded me already.
I clutched my teddy, my best friend, my confidante.
Looking away, I saw my dead grandmother sitting at the foot of my bed; tears finally rolled down my cheeks, I sniffled. I’d loved her dearly, so did she. She remained silent, a faint smile lingered on her lips, she caressed my hands until I blinked my eyes and she was gone.
I hugged my Teddy tightly and uttered, ‘I wish you could talk…I need to talk my heart out even if it doesn’t help.’ I heaved a sigh.
My bedroom door opened, Mom entered – ‘you don’t look well’, She asked stroking my hair.
I remained silent.
‘Something’s bothering you?’
I looked at her this time; She smiled – ‘you want to talk?’
I shook my head, tears blurred my vision; her smiling face became vague yet I tried hard not to blink my eyes.
‘Yes, I want to, but you aren’t real, are you?’ I cried out, my eyes blinked.
She was gone.
Written by Chirasree Bose for Tale Weaver #126 – Death – 29/6/17