Mom and Carson decorated for christmas. Mom always said she wished she had my artistic talent- even though I have no talent. She just always made me decorate anyway.
Dad bit his lip and went to work.
Mom paused as she opened one box. Looking inside I saw that it held my stocking and all my ornaments for the tree. All the ornaments I had made in my earlier years in school as well as the ornaments I had been given by my grandparents- one every year.
"I'll put them on the tree, Mom," Carson said, gently taking the box from her hands.
She nodded and I followed him to the tree. He began delicately placing them on the tree.
"Do you remember this one, Lily," he asked. His voice was a whisper on the edge of tears. He placed more ornaments silently.
Every year we each tried to put our angel ornament (from our grandparents, we had the same one) higher on the tree than the other person's.
This year he put mine a few branches above his. "I miss you, Lily," he said. "I hope you're flying high as an angel."
YOU ARE READING
After Suicide
Short StoryWaking up after dying is the strangest feeling. I knew I had succeeded, the overdose was enough and no one was home to stop me or to realize what I had done until it was too late. But this morning, I opened my eyes, right before my alarm went off...
