Memories of Dispair (Editing)

Chapter-Epilogue

Gregory's POV

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Eleven Year's Later

"Grandma, Uncle Francis is here." I march down the stairs racing my sister to the door, but Stacy beat me to it seeing Francis there with his second wife that he got married to three years ago. I pinch Stacy's arm as she pinches me back then sticks her tongue, "Stacy we need a girl's night out...your getting big." his second wife claims hugging Stacy then taking me in view as she hugs me too and kisses my cheek her pink gloss sticking in place.

Francis went to the kitchen to set the plates and silverware down along having to help Stacy take three heavy boxes and move them to the basement. Stacy resembles my mom and dad in a way she looks; dark red hair, wavy hair with small curls at the ends, my skin color but a little lighter, hazel eye's that can be light grey from a distance, kind of think boned because she's in varsity, has a scar on her scar on her eyebrow from a incident, and is around 5'5 tall.

We set the box on the floor where the last two are by the couch. Sitting down I wipe the sweat off my face, "Do you miss her?" I asks Stacy seeing her about to sit but stops to look at me her face looking cold and emotionless, "You can't forget can you? Just drop it Gregory she is dead and that's the end of it." I narrow my eyes at her storming up the stair's.

I slam the door behind me hearing the squeaky doorknob shake at the vibration, "Greg wh-" Ignoring Francis and going up the stairs of my bedroom, I slam the door behind me and sat down on the on the desk chair turning on my computer and playing my playlist; 30 seconds to mars, Linkin Park, Red hot chilly peppers, and 3 doors down.

Raising the volume up I turn on my game system grabbing the controller and starting to play COD: Black Ops playing the zombie version. Twenty minutes into the game while on finally making it to the 8th level after two times trying to get to that level, I hear a knock on my door groaning as I pause the game getting up from the chair and opening the door to see Francis standing in front of me while he was sipping his can of beer, "I want to talk to you." I was about to protest but he shoved his way through my room making me slam the door while I cross my arms.

"I don't need anyone to give me a lecture." I snap at him while he sat at my chair crossing his arms while he sipped his beer seeing the little dribbles get on his scruffy facial, "Listen carefully, I'm your fucking Uncle not your friend...On second thought sit your ass down." My eye's widen as I couldn't recall a time that Francis has snapped at me both of us knowing we have always been cool with each other, but something in his eyes showed something different. I sit down on the edge of my bed looking sternly in the eye's having both of my fist clenched tightly. 

We didn't speak for while until I started to calm down my shoulders going down, fist now fully palms resting on my lap, and my body not completely stiff but relaxed in a way. "...I know loosing your mom was hard. You lost another parent that died because of he-...her mental illness, however Gregory it was not your fault. No one knew that she will do that to hersel-"  I scoff feeling my vision beginning to water feeling the liquid tears slip their way down my cheek. 

I get opening the door but shook my head closing it having my back facing Francis, "Uncle...my mother's mind was a dangerous place. A place where your memories can trigger you any time of the day, and there is nothing you can do...only to fight but even like that PTSD is a bitch." The memories hurt after five year's of my ma being dead. I wish I could've done something about it, I wish I didn't leave that day to go and watch the football game with them.

Few Hour's Later

After the whole wining and dining I went back to the basement taking my phone out and texting my pops pictures of the family and sending my girlfriend pictures of the food, she has always enjoy cooking and will let me know to text her pictures of the food just so she can print them out and put them in her picture book. I lay down on the sofa rubbing my face and hearing heels coming down the steps, "Greg grandma wants you." Stacy informs giving me a witty smile as she puts her hands on he hips, "Ugh...I'm going." I groan as I just sat down and now I have to get back up. 

Going up the stairs with Stacy-she gives me a tight hug whispering in my ear then quickly going up the stairs without a wait. I glance down the stairs one last time remembering when it was just a week after she adopted me and was came to tell her friends and family, "This is my son...I love him very much." I can still hear the excitement and the loving tone in her voice also recalling how embarrassed I was on the first day of parent's come to work day because how are color is different, "We might not be the same color or by blood, however by heart you are my son."  I hated her for always saying that knowing that she knew I got bullied because of it, but as I got older I realized when my sister was born that my mom meant every word till the day she died.

Going up the stairs I turn on the light looking down at the darkness then hearing my name being called once again from my grandma, "Memories of despair."  Was the words she left behind as her suicide note. Closing the door that night I left behind every anger I felt towards her, and blaming my dad for not noticing what was happening. Still trying to realize what happened that night was neither of our faults, but the faults of what she went through that war, however deep inside I still feel as though that Ernesto death wasn't that only thing that happened to her; maybe I'll never find out the second truth behind her memories but they got buried in her coffin along with herself.

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                          I know it's a bittersweet ending, but I knew this was possibly the best ending because many people who suffer from PTSD do commit suicide, but there are many out there who don't but please remember that PTSD happens to anyone that was traumatic to them.