Hi! This was written when I was 13, so be kind. It was one of the first stories I ever wrote - so although it's average at best - it's staying for the nostalgia :)
I have written two stories - 'Grief and Awakening' and 'Routine Activity' that are similar to this.
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Everyday was the same for him.
Get up without sleeping all night.
Brush his teeth, with a herbal plant
Help down at the hatch,
Save someones life...
And go and see Kate.
Having a routine helped the pain.
There was nothing about this he could change and nothing he could improve on.
Having a routine meant that for only a certain part of the day, he had to deal with reality,
and only for a few moments, he had to face the facts that she was gone.
And that it was his fault.
Jack could remember that day better than any other moment in his life.
He saw it every time he walked through the jungle, and he saw it every time he closed his eyes.
Jack saw the blood, Jack heard the screaming, and Jack felt the pain.
Jack walked to the edge of the cliff where Kate was buried, but didn't sit down.
Jack eyed the cross marking the spot, just as a streak of rational anger overtook him and he smashed it to pieces then fell to the ground blinded by tears.
Jack stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff.
Without thinking about the people he'd leave behind, the ones who needed his guidance, who cared and loved him.
Jack stared down in to the blue ocean ninety meters below.
And Jack jumped.
He'd woken up that day,
Brushed his teeth,
helped at the Hatch,
saved someones life,
mourned Kate,
and left.
And this, thankfully, he would not do tomorrow.