27; solace

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"solace"

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(ˈsɒl ɪs), noun | 1. One of the most beautiful words to utter and feel in the English language, solace is defined by the state of comfort and alleviation during distressing and sorrowful circumstances. 2. verb |Solace is also defined by the ability to console somebody's heart, soul and mind. Your words and intentions give them a refuge in this cruel word. A uniquely beautiful word in the English language, its definition coincides with its sound and aesthetic. Uttering the word simply gives you comfort and warmth. 

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In that moment, I could swear I feel the world going still around me. Nothing exists at that moment. Only the doctor's words that keep repeating in my mind, getting louder and louder. 

This can not be true. This can not be real. I must be dreaming. This is impossible. 

"Ms Kerrigan," Doctor Gauer calls me, a faint whisper in my shouting thoughts.

Your mother took her life. She committed suicide. She committed suicide. She. Committed. Suicide.

I feel my legs shaking. They're too weak to hold my body up any longer. They buckle and I fall down on my knees as a sob break through my body, a really loud sob, filled with the pain I'm currently feeling. Although I can't release that ache with the screaming. Oh, no, the ache and the burning stay in my chest, literally gripping my insides. If screaming could help, I'd scream as loud as I could.

But it's the emotional pain that's settled inside of me. My mother died. My mother. 

"Ms Kerrigan! Is there anyone you would like to call?" Doctor Gauer offers softly.

Call? Who would I call? I've only had my mother. And now she's gone, too. "How did this happen?" I manage to get out. I don't know if I even want to hear it. Oh, my God. Please, tell me I'm dreaming. There is no way this is happening. 

"Please, sit down. Do you need water? Or anything else?" Doctor Gauer gushes, concerned. 

I manage to sit on the chair, tugging at my hair. The tears just won't stop falling down my cheeks. They're blurring my vision and I'm almost unable to see. "How did it happen?" I sob out, trying to take in deep breaths so I don't choke. I feel like I can't breathe. It's painful to do it. 

"She slit her wrists." 

I gasp. I can't help it. "How the hell is that even possible?! She was tied to the bed almost all the time!" Anger is good. If I feel angry, I don't feel pain. If I focus on anger, it doesn't hurt as much. 

"She's hidden a razor in a bathroom. We don't know where she's got it from, but we haven't discovered it in time. Her behaviour wasn't any different. She just went to the bathroom and never came back. We're sorry, we understand this is a careless mistake."

"It damn well is!" I shriek out hysterically. "I've been killing myself to pay you to look after my mother and it turns out I was actually paying for her death! Oh, my God," I whisper out the last part. I feel like I'll throw up any second.

My stomach hurts. It really hurts. This is that physical pain, mixed with the emotional one. It's the worst one. I've felt it once before. And I'm feeling it now again. So many nights I've been praying that this wouldn't happen. I believed it wouldn't. My mother was all I had left. 

I have no one now. Literally no one. And this is such a disturbing thought. It's too painful

"We realise our mistake, Ms Kerrigan. However, your mother hasn't shown any signs of suicidal behaviour." 

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