Fire Meet Gasoline

Chapter Nine.

Everyone deals with guilt in different ways.
It's said that there are five different stages; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

At this point, I'd felt denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and even a little bit of acceptance. I knew that my little girl was rotting in a coffin six feet under and nothing would bring her back. Amelia was dead. My gorgeous, crazy, loving, sweet, innocent little girl was gone forever.

I'd spent the last couple of weeks confined to the four walls of my house, I couldn't face seeing anyone, because I knew I'd break down and let my emotions out, and I didn't want them to see how vulnerable I was.

Sat at my dressing table, my jaw resting against my hand, a sombre expression on my face. My messy hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in weeks, which was more than likely.

It was time, time to get my shit together and stop wasting days of my life, seeing as the next day isn't always promised.

A/N

And I'm baaaaack! I'm so sorry that it's been so long, but I'm gonna get this book completed. I promise you that.