colors |isaac lahey ✔

Eleven

Louisa Lloyd

I sit on my bed for hours without moving. Melissa and Scott tried to bring me food, but my door remained shut.

The only thing that makes me leave my bed is the sudden urge to vomit. I run from my room to the bathroom door. Surprisingly, the lights don't turn on when I press the switch but I don't have time to worry about that.

I fall on my knees in front of the toilet and let the contents of my stomach leave my body. It's an horrifying feeling, not being able to control what's happening to your body. I hate puking.

I haven't called the kids yet. I can't talk to them when their parents died. Possibly because of me. My entire body shakes as last night's dinner comes out of my mouth.

After brushing my teeth to clean my mouth and the horrible taste puking left behind, I run back to my room, a soft knock on the door stopping me on my tracks. The phone is already on my hands but I can't stop now.

"Not now, Scott." I know it's him and he'll understand.

I sigh and take deep breaths before doing the thug I've been dreading since yesterday. I have to let go if any sadness because the kids need me.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Lou?"

"Yeah."

There's a sob on the other side of the phone and my little Marianna starts crying. I hold my breath, the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. But I can't. Repel them, Louisa.

"What happened?"

She starts explaining, with a few stops and tissues falling on the floor- from both sides. Brett was picking Angela up from her favorite coffee shop and they both got hit by a truck.

Hit and run. They both died on the spot.

"I'm sorry I ever blamed you for this." She blows her nose again and I brush away the tears. "It was never your fault. The boys all want you to know that."

"It's okay. Keep in touch okay? And tell me if you guys need anything. I'll get on a plane and be right by your side."

"Thank you." She whispers softly before handing up.

Why is life throwing so many lemons at me?

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