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How her soft, loose curls frame her heart-shaped face. Her rosy lips are half parted, asking to be kissed.
Not being able to stay away from her any longer, I kick off my shoes and crawl in bed with her. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close to my chest.
Her breathing picks up but slowly relaxes when she hears my voice.
“Please don’t ask me to leave. Ask me to do anything else, but not that,” I whisper with my face buried in her neck. “Please, Shorty, let me be here for you.”
I pull her in tighter and kiss her hair. She surprises me by grabbing my forearms and squeezing tight, silently begging me not to leave her. I sigh in relief when she speaks.
“Please don’t go.” It’s barely a whisper.
“Never, baby. Never.”
Kissing the side of her face, I sing “My Girl” to my girl.
The lost and the broken
Chapter 7- Josiah
February 1
I wander the streets alone with my shattered heart in my hands as I block out the haunting images of Mom’s lifeless body drowning in her own blood with a vacant look in her eyes that stared right up at me as I cradled her into my arms. I failed her; I did not protect her.
The alcohol burns my throat and sends a wave of calmness through my body. The white powder I breathe in gives me a euphoric rush I crave like a starving man looking for his next meal.
No amount of alcohol or drug I force into my body will make me forget the moment I found Dad sitting in his recliner with a bottle of Miller Lite in one hand and a bloody knife in the other while Mom bled to death a few feet away from him.
He took her life without a second thought of who she would leave behind.
I reached for the gun from my back and moved gradually until I loomed over him, pointing the barrel of the gun between his eyes.
I expected to see a shit-eating grin on his face. Instead, I saw pain and regret as tears fell from his eyes.
I glanced around the room, noticing pictures of me and Sade from when we were kids. A time in our lives when we were happy and free of pain.
I turned back to face him, itching to end his life.
He nodded in understanding and closed his eyes.
I pulled the trigger.
Chapter 8- Josiah
February 15
Seb: Where are you?
Tia: Jo, plz come back. We need you. Sade needs you.
D: Come back. Let us help you. You’re not alone.
Seb: Where are you, bro?
Hector: Come home, brother. Get off the streets before it kills you.
I turn my phone off, tucking it away, and go back to drinking the rest of my forty, drowning in my own sorrow.
“I killed Dad.” I take another drink and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
