The Story Of A Cutter

The Ride Home

No one speaks in the car. With the radio off and only sounds of cars passing you, everything is silent. Your mom still softly sobbing and mumbling "help. Someone help." It hurts to hear her say those words. You've cried them before, yet no one listened. You pray this will end. As you drift into the abyss that is your deepest fears, she speaks. "We can fix this...I want you to get better...I just don't know how to help you..." You barely hear a word she says. "Mom, I want to see the grave." She knows what you're talking about. When your dad died, your mom refused to let you go to the funeral or see the grave. She was afraid it would hurt you even more. You've begged to see it before but the answer was always no. Although this time you hear "Okay. If it will help." She takes the dreaded road to the cemetery. Crying all the way. When you get there, you both get out of the car. You look at her "I want to do this one alone." She sobs even harder, but then hands you the map marking the burial spot. You hug her "I promise, I'll be back. I need to do this." Slowly, you walk down the path you've always wanted to. When you get to the grave, a wave of shock goes through you. "He's here. Under my feet. I can't believe it." As the last sentence slips out of your mouth, you collapse onto the ground crying. Laying beside his final resting place. You lay there, caressing the tombstone. Then, you get up. Dust off, and kiss the hardrock stating his death. You begin walking back. In the car, silence returns all the way home.