Playing Poker [BEING REWRITTEN]

11| Memory Lane

Third Person

Death is a thing that comes and goes.

Death is a pain everybody knows.

Death is a thing that's not deserved or owed.

Death is a pain that continuously grows.

"Why do you have to leave?" The six year old cried by his mother's side.

Francesca had been diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer about four months ago, she had been lying in the hospital and her health was quickly depleting. She knew she wouldn't have much time left.

She spent individual time with each member in her family in her final moments.

"I'm not leaving, think about it like me seeing you later. You will always be my peanut."

"I'll always be with you, right there." She pointed at his heart. He held her hand in this spot until he felt it go limp. Everyone in the room cried, holding each other tight, replaying memories of the woman in her head.

"I'm gonna get you, little bug."

"Do you wanna help, muffin?"

"Where are my three musketeers?"

"Dove, you're making a mess!"

"Love you, Peanut."

-

Sneaking out all times of the night,

Giving his father quite the fright,

The suffocating tension in the air was tight,

Leaving the house solely out of spite.

Paul paces around the living room waiting for Micheal's arrival. The key jiggled in the lock, the door knob slowly turned revealing a groggy looking Micheal.

"Where were you?" Paul yelled at his oldest son. He had been out since last night and hadn't returned until the next day.

Ever since his mother's death, he had been sneaking out and getting into fights. It was a distraction to the emotional pain that the death had caused.

"It doesn't matter." He shrugged nonchalantly, hanging up his coat on the rack.

"What do you mean, 'it doesn't matter'? You were out the whole night and didn't even let me know." He yelled back. Paul had bags under his eyes, visually worried for his disappearance.

"You didn't care before, why care now?" The seventeen year old's voice raised slightly.

"What are you talking about?"

"This wasn't my first time."

5 Years Ago

TW: Alcohol

One more drink added to the shrine,

Beer, Vodka, Whiskey, and Wine,

Wobbly legs, can't walk in a line,

One more drink to his death he signs.

CRASH

"Pick that shit up right now." Paul heard his second oldest son. He usually wasn't one to raise his voice, that made him suspicious.

"Liam, what are you doing?"