Unsaid
By Dani Fleming
Author's Note: Don't own Dawn of the Dead; barely own two cents! Don't sue and all of that.
Please enjoy.
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Some things are better left unsaid.
I want to remember him, to recall all of the good times we had and moments we shared together. I want my memories of him to be pure, not tainted with the last vision I have of him, growling, running after some poor soul. He was no longer a man, filled with his hopes of starting a family, being mine forever, growing old with me.
In the moment that the bite stole him away from me, he became something else. Something horrible and unnamable. I want to cry and beat my hands on the floor and do all of those things the severely grieving do.
I want to see him whole again.
I want to go back in time and erase the morning and be in his arms forever.
I don't want to have to fight and be Florence damn Nightingale for all of these people; can't they see I'm hurting, that I've lost someone too? Why can't I just be allowed to rest and let it all end?
I silence the harmful thoughts that have plagued me since this all began.
I miss him, yes.
I want to be with him again.
And how I wish this day had never come.
But I survived for a reason....for 16, actually. They need me, and maybe I need them, too.
This is what might be the last bit of humanity, and we all need each other. We have something in common; loss. Great, heaping amounts of loss. Everyone keeping it to themselves.
It's too horrible to talk about, and maybe, just maybe, if we don't talk about it, it didn't really happen.
I know when things are more quiet someone will speak, then others, until all of us have come out of our grief enough to share them with others.
Some things are better left unsaid.......but hopefully not for long.
By Dani Fleming
Author's Note: Don't own Dawn of the Dead; barely own two cents! Don't sue and all of that.
Please enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some things are better left unsaid.
I want to remember him, to recall all of the good times we had and moments we shared together. I want my memories of him to be pure, not tainted with the last vision I have of him, growling, running after some poor soul. He was no longer a man, filled with his hopes of starting a family, being mine forever, growing old with me.
In the moment that the bite stole him away from me, he became something else. Something horrible and unnamable. I want to cry and beat my hands on the floor and do all of those things the severely grieving do.
I want to see him whole again.
I want to go back in time and erase the morning and be in his arms forever.
I don't want to have to fight and be Florence damn Nightingale for all of these people; can't they see I'm hurting, that I've lost someone too? Why can't I just be allowed to rest and let it all end?
I silence the harmful thoughts that have plagued me since this all began.
I miss him, yes.
I want to be with him again.
And how I wish this day had never come.
But I survived for a reason....for 16, actually. They need me, and maybe I need them, too.
This is what might be the last bit of humanity, and we all need each other. We have something in common; loss. Great, heaping amounts of loss. Everyone keeping it to themselves.
It's too horrible to talk about, and maybe, just maybe, if we don't talk about it, it didn't really happen.
I know when things are more quiet someone will speak, then others, until all of us have come out of our grief enough to share them with others.
Some things are better left unsaid.......but hopefully not for long.