coping with loss

Charlotte's Tale part 10.

“Neither do I sweetheart, but we must eat. If you don’t, you’ll lose even more of your bust and the pills won’t do their magic, will they?”

“I suppose not.” I allowed her to cajole me out of bed. My skirt was all creased and the belt had rubbed red marks around my small waist. She got me to strip off and put on my jammies and a dressing gown, and to wash my face and hands. When I’d done so, I padded down the stairs in my slippers, to the kitchen. My mother was standing with her back to me doing something at one of the work tops. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her and said, “I love you and I’m sorry I made you cry.”

She turned around and hugged me, “You didn’t, I’m just sad all the time at the moment.”

Charlotte's Tale part 8.

I felt as if the world had become a deep, deep pit. I was at the bottom of it, it was dark and the sides were smooth. There were no lights nor ladders. Each day an angel in the form of my mother would come and make me eat and hold me. I would cry and cling to her. I had no energy, no hope, no anything.

Charlotte’s Tale.
Part 8.
by Angharad

Subscribe to coping with loss