|Book One of Disaster Series|
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❝Please stop doing this,❞ Ridge whispers, resting his forehead on my shoulder blade, his breath hitting my skin, chills coursing through my veins, seeping deep into my bones. The look in his eyes, the hunger and the...
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One word to describe this book?
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Running away was a bad decision.
I should've just stayed home, with dad when I know he needs me the most. But as soon as I woke up today, the feeling of immense dread and sorrow that washed over me, just made me drive in the middle of the day, without telling anyone about my whereabouts.
It's my mom's third death anniversary, and with each passing day, the ache in my heart seems to multiply tenfolds. These memories keep on playing on repeat like a broken record, reminding me that she's never coming back again.
Now and then, there are these flashbacks - and then the realisation dawns upon me that she's gone. She's just a memory now. The day of her funeral was the day I finally believed that my mom, my best friend was never coming back. With each step I took in the opposite direction of that casket, I lost a part of me.
I miss her. I miss her warm embrace, the familiar scent that had the power to calm me down even when there was a violent storm brewing inside of me. I miss her million dollar smile, the smile that reassured us till her last breath, giving us false hopes that everything will be fine. When it all just flipped the next day. Wrecking our lives like the sinking of a ship after colliding with a giant iceberg. The iceberg being the bloody disease that took her away from us.
I miss reading with her, lounging in our living room, sipping on our favourite tea and laughing at all the silly things our favourite characters would do, or fangirling over the hot male protagonist.
But when I wake up from my dream, all I realise is that these are all memories now.
Wiping away the tears that had managed to fall from my eyes, I make my way inside the familiar cemetery, through the old rusty iron gates, wincing as it creaks when I push it open.
The dry leaves crunch under my feet as I walk down the familiar pathway. The half grown, half dried trees stand proud like always, small wrens perched up on their branches, chirping away. These little creatures look happy.
Little do they know that they are surrounded by death on all sides.
Even the weather is not on my side today. The sky above me has turned an ugly and dull shade of grey, thick smoky clouds scatterd all over the usual clear blue sky, showing a promise of heavy rains and a possible storm.
My feet automatically carry me to the familiar tombstone, covered in lilies, her favourite flowers. They are laid down carefully near her name, and look fresh and new. That means dad must've been here early in the morning before going to work.
