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Apr 2020
I look up to my father,  

as he holds his head in his hands

“He’s gone.”

My lungs don’t fill, my breath hitches.

Time stops.

Someone grabs my shoulder, pulling me away from reality

The floodgates open as I become vulnerable

Crying into the arms of an unknown

A disease that cannot be cured.

He went from lively to barely being able to carry his own sons

He became thin and pale


Sitting in a wheelchair

But he wasn’t afraid to die

Wearing all black, staring into the eyes of a dead man

1 wife, 3 young boys.

They don’t know what’s going on,

They just know that he’s gone  

One year later

The youngest boy leaves this earth

No one knowing how, or why.

But that he went to join his father in heaven

They say love stories always have a happy ending

Not this one.
Ella James
Written by
Ella James  18/F/Christchurch, New Zealand
(18/F/Christchurch, New Zealand)   
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