Sweet Nightmares

Funeral

You know when you'd do anything, at any cost, to save the ones you love.

And when you can't, do you know how broken we become.

We shatter, break, melt into nothingness. We try to escape the truth. But everything stays the same. You just have to accept it.

~•••~

"Daddy? Daddy please." I cried. The pain of losing a parent weighting down on me. My gales of sorrow drowning the floor in a lake of despair.

Kicking, screaming, yelling at the top of my lungs, until they burst just to stop them. "NO! YOU CAN'T TAKE ME FORM HIM!! DADDY!!!!"

The doctors dragged me away. A weeping mess, to broken to try and stop them. I wriggle to escape. More doctors come running down the corridor just to hold me down. The floor becomes a river of my emotions as I'm pinned down by the doctors.

The people in the corridor look at me like I belong in an asylum. They don't understand. The doctors and nurses don understand as I continuously yell "LET ME GO! GET THE FUCK OFF ME! DADDY!"

One minute I was holding my dads hand the next I'm being dragged away on the floor. My daddy, my sweet, sweet daddy. Come back to me. Don't die, don't leave me aline in this fucked up shit hole of a place. Please dad you can't leave me alone, please, Please~ I'm cut off by my sobs, my lungs bursting for a relief.

The doctor are getting impatient. I could tell as I felt a prick in my left arm. They drugged me. They couldn't handle it so they did the only thing they knew. They stopped me using drugs.

My tears continue to run as I look towards my fathers lonely resting place. Covered in flowers, cards and small birds and insects. Every day I came to him. And everyday I brought something. It cheered us but up, but we couldn't be happy forever.

Life isn't nice like that.

~•••~

It's been 3ish weeks since that incident. The one at the hospital. We had planned his funeral but I didn't expect it to come round this fast. Oh daddy. I start to crumble again, balling my eyes out.

My black clothes match my mood. I have a pink rose tucked in my jacket pocket to add some colour. Dad would have laughed saying something about how I wear black to often to wear it at funerals.

Why did you have to leave me daddy? It's not fair, now I'm alone.

I grab my keys and bag. I lick the door and walk out to the at like I've been beaten up.

~•••~

The worst part about funerals is walking away.

I'm coughing and crying. Making indescribable sounds in between calling dad, daddy or making apologies for something I couldn't stop.

The walls aren't life line. I cling to them like I would die if I was to let go. If I look at anything I cry cause I remember.

I fall to the ground. People come round the corner and see me. A broken, shattered mess. They're friends I invited but I can't look at them. The ground is my only comfort. Maybe they'll leave me do I can become one with the floor. That way no one will notice me.

They pick me up to drag away. I'm covered in dirt, my hair's a mess, my clothes are ridden up and wet from tears and mud. My flower, my sweet little rose is in tact as I clutch to it for dear life.

I don't put up a fight like I did at the hospital. I just get dragged away. No kicking, no screaming. Just like a limp lifeless body.

Engulfed by life. Depressed by death.