Finding Solace

DECISIONS

~Victoria~

I lie motionless, overwhelmed by grief. My mind races with thoughts of death and self-blame.

Why did Grandma have to go?

Why must I suffer so much?

Tears dry on my cheeks, but the pain remains.

I'm trapped in this nightmare.

Every memory of Grandma haunts me.

Her warm smile, her laughter, her stories.

The way she held me close, whispering "my dear Victoria."

The way she made me feel loved, wanted.

All gone.

My room's dimly lit, the silence oppressive.

I feel lost, alone.

Abandoned by the world.

By God.

By everyone I loved.

I scream, but no sound comes out.

My voice is trapped, suffocated by grief.

I collapse onto my bed, exhausted.

My world has ended.

Nothing remains.

Only pain.

Only sorrow.

Only darkness. 

I lay motionless on my bed, surrounded by the eerie silence of my room. The weight of my grief felt suffocating, as if the darkness was swallowing me whole.

Suddenly, my phone pierced the stillness, shrill and insistent.

I hesitated, unsure if I had the strength to answer.

The screen illuminated, displaying Paul's name.

With a deep breath, I picked up.

"Hey, Paul," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

We had bonded over our shared grief, understanding each other's pain in a way few others could.

Paul's dad had passed away a year ago, and his family had moved to Benin to start anew. I remembered the tears we shed together, the late-night conversations about loss and longing.

Our friendship deepened during those difficult times. Paul became my rock, my confidant. We shared stories about our parents, memories we cherished, and the struggles we faced.

Now, as I lay in bed, feeling lost and alone, Paul's voice on the phone was a lifeline.

We connected. Cause we've both had our own share in life. He alone knows how it feels to lose someone dear to you.

"Victoria, how are you?" Paul's concern was palpable, even through the phone.

I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "I...I don't know."

As I waited for Paul's words of comfort, I felt a sense of relief wash over me.

"Vic, I'm so sorry about your grandma," Paul said, his voice filled with empathy. "I know how close you were to her."

Tears streamed down my face as I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Thanks, Paul. It's just...it feels so unreal."

"I know," Paul said softly. "Losing someone we love is never easy. My dad's passing taught me that."

We shared a moment of silence, both lost in our thoughts.

"Remember when we talked about our parents?" Paul asked, breaking the silence. "How we wished we could turn back time?"