Title:"R.S.V.P."
Summary: Something happens to someone. You'll find out who. I don't want to give anything away. I have no clue where I'm going with thins so stay with me.
Author: Lindsay
Author's note: Hey! I have 2- wait make that 3 other stories in the works right now so don't worry I am still working on the ones I promised. Since this is my first one I have started since September 11, 2002, I wanna dedicate it to all my family and friends I lost on top of all the other victims.
"R.S.V.P." A long day, a very long day. Home now I am safe. Check my messages there's one. I know what it is, its been there since that day. I'll never delete it. It will stay there forever, just like it was supposed to be for me How will I live? How will I manage? I can't do this alone. And him, how will he cope, how will he manage living this empty life without it? Without what he needs. Its time to start, I've got to do it. I walk to the room and sit down in the chair, get out my pen start writing it down. It's quiet, he doesn't know what he'll never have. I'll never regret what I had for a while. Wish I could take back everything I did wrong, wish I could take back the pain that I caused. Can't do it now its all to late, wish I could take back the oain, the hurt, the hate. The hate that people carried, the hate I could never have or see how, its all over now there's nothing left for me but him. 300 people count after count, 302 if I count us too. I don't know if I'll go, I don't know if I can, He has to go, but I don't know if he can, I don't know if he would understand. I've got to start writing I've waited too long, it's time to stop pushing it off it's time now. I write them out with my tear stained face. I never cry, I've got to be strong not for me but for the both of them. How will I start it I've tried many times can't find the right starting I'll try a new one. It's over and done the worst is done. A thump at the door I know what it is, the morning paper is here. I don't want to get it or look at it either. Dragging my feet I'm walking to the door, pick up the paper I turn to that page. Look under Boston, skim to the "D's." "Da..." De..." "Dl..." "Do..." Looking and skimming I see it, it's not scripture that catches my eyes, its that picture. Looking up from my seat to the mantel I see that picture, and tears well up in my eyes, I hear feet running down that hall, m little guy runs to my side. He sees the picture and simply says "look" as he points to the picture. "Yeah." I whisper choking back tears. Enough with the picture its time to read more, I search for the print put next to the picture. Mrs. Robert Donnell passed away on August 31st 2002. Born June 8th 1968 she died a sorrow death to sudden, to soon. A well respected Criminal Defense Attorney, she leaves behind a firm she helped build. The members of Donnell,Young,Donnell &Frutt have made no comment. Accomplishing so much such a young age, graduated Harvard passing on A's. Leaving behind a wealthy family, she didn't want. But leaving a "regular" family not wealthy, not poor, which is what she wanted more and more. Surviving her death is her husband and son. Robert G. Donnell and Robert Jr. Memorial services will be scheduled through out the week all open to people, all open to speak. She will be buried in Boston at the request of her husband. Lindsay S. Donnell has passed away at the age of 34.
I can't hold them back, not anymore, even for Little Bobby I can't. "Ma, Ma?" he asks, crying becasue I am. "Ma, ma's not here, she's up with the angels." "She's not coming home?" He's crying harder now. "No, she's not coming home." We both sit there crying. All 301 invitations are back everyone will be there dressing in black. After Little Bobby's in bed I walk to our bed. Looking at her stuff placed in the same spot as before. The paper on the bed catches my eyes, slowly I walk I can't bear, I stop. I need a scotch, maybe vodka would be better, no, no! I can't drink anymore after Lindsay was killed by a drunk driver, should he be there standing at her funeral? Showing his respect? Feeling the guilt? Wishing he could just take it back? Forget everything that happened, bring here life back? He picks up the invitation and checks the box, signs his name and puts it in the mailbox. He's there with his son on September 3rd. he pays his respects and watches her leave. He gets in the car and drives to his dad's, and drops off the baby, he needs to be alone tonight. Driving to a bar he stops. He can't take a drink, not even one sip. Drives to the cemetary he sees an envelope. Somekind of invitation. "Meet me in Heaven R.S.V.P. to me." He can't believe his eyes. He stays a while and finally goes home. He signs his name and checks the box. He brings back the envelope and something in a white box. He kisses his finger tips and presses the stone. Driving away he whispers. "I'm sorry baby. I love you Lindsay." R.S.V.P. He drives away sober this time as not to take the life of another husband's wife or child. Knowing the pain he has caused himself and his wife's family and friends by his last mistake. R.S.V.P. "I'll see you in Heaven."
The END... FEEDBACK!!! This was just a spurr of the moment kind of thing. Much love-Lindsay
Summary: Something happens to someone. You'll find out who. I don't want to give anything away. I have no clue where I'm going with thins so stay with me.
Author: Lindsay
Author's note: Hey! I have 2- wait make that 3 other stories in the works right now so don't worry I am still working on the ones I promised. Since this is my first one I have started since September 11, 2002, I wanna dedicate it to all my family and friends I lost on top of all the other victims.
"R.S.V.P." A long day, a very long day. Home now I am safe. Check my messages there's one. I know what it is, its been there since that day. I'll never delete it. It will stay there forever, just like it was supposed to be for me How will I live? How will I manage? I can't do this alone. And him, how will he cope, how will he manage living this empty life without it? Without what he needs. Its time to start, I've got to do it. I walk to the room and sit down in the chair, get out my pen start writing it down. It's quiet, he doesn't know what he'll never have. I'll never regret what I had for a while. Wish I could take back everything I did wrong, wish I could take back the pain that I caused. Can't do it now its all to late, wish I could take back the oain, the hurt, the hate. The hate that people carried, the hate I could never have or see how, its all over now there's nothing left for me but him. 300 people count after count, 302 if I count us too. I don't know if I'll go, I don't know if I can, He has to go, but I don't know if he can, I don't know if he would understand. I've got to start writing I've waited too long, it's time to stop pushing it off it's time now. I write them out with my tear stained face. I never cry, I've got to be strong not for me but for the both of them. How will I start it I've tried many times can't find the right starting I'll try a new one. It's over and done the worst is done. A thump at the door I know what it is, the morning paper is here. I don't want to get it or look at it either. Dragging my feet I'm walking to the door, pick up the paper I turn to that page. Look under Boston, skim to the "D's." "Da..." De..." "Dl..." "Do..." Looking and skimming I see it, it's not scripture that catches my eyes, its that picture. Looking up from my seat to the mantel I see that picture, and tears well up in my eyes, I hear feet running down that hall, m little guy runs to my side. He sees the picture and simply says "look" as he points to the picture. "Yeah." I whisper choking back tears. Enough with the picture its time to read more, I search for the print put next to the picture. Mrs. Robert Donnell passed away on August 31st 2002. Born June 8th 1968 she died a sorrow death to sudden, to soon. A well respected Criminal Defense Attorney, she leaves behind a firm she helped build. The members of Donnell,Young,Donnell &Frutt have made no comment. Accomplishing so much such a young age, graduated Harvard passing on A's. Leaving behind a wealthy family, she didn't want. But leaving a "regular" family not wealthy, not poor, which is what she wanted more and more. Surviving her death is her husband and son. Robert G. Donnell and Robert Jr. Memorial services will be scheduled through out the week all open to people, all open to speak. She will be buried in Boston at the request of her husband. Lindsay S. Donnell has passed away at the age of 34.
I can't hold them back, not anymore, even for Little Bobby I can't. "Ma, Ma?" he asks, crying becasue I am. "Ma, ma's not here, she's up with the angels." "She's not coming home?" He's crying harder now. "No, she's not coming home." We both sit there crying. All 301 invitations are back everyone will be there dressing in black. After Little Bobby's in bed I walk to our bed. Looking at her stuff placed in the same spot as before. The paper on the bed catches my eyes, slowly I walk I can't bear, I stop. I need a scotch, maybe vodka would be better, no, no! I can't drink anymore after Lindsay was killed by a drunk driver, should he be there standing at her funeral? Showing his respect? Feeling the guilt? Wishing he could just take it back? Forget everything that happened, bring here life back? He picks up the invitation and checks the box, signs his name and puts it in the mailbox. He's there with his son on September 3rd. he pays his respects and watches her leave. He gets in the car and drives to his dad's, and drops off the baby, he needs to be alone tonight. Driving to a bar he stops. He can't take a drink, not even one sip. Drives to the cemetary he sees an envelope. Somekind of invitation. "Meet me in Heaven R.S.V.P. to me." He can't believe his eyes. He stays a while and finally goes home. He signs his name and checks the box. He brings back the envelope and something in a white box. He kisses his finger tips and presses the stone. Driving away he whispers. "I'm sorry baby. I love you Lindsay." R.S.V.P. He drives away sober this time as not to take the life of another husband's wife or child. Knowing the pain he has caused himself and his wife's family and friends by his last mistake. R.S.V.P. "I'll see you in Heaven."
The END... FEEDBACK!!! This was just a spurr of the moment kind of thing. Much love-Lindsay