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blair - age 11
A police stands at the door of Nadia's house. Nadia and I run from playing doors to see what's going on.
Nadia's mother turns to me,
'Blair honey, you need to go with the policeman okay?'
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My hair is a mess, I hold on to my bear tightly and run a finger through the knots.
I look at the mirror, my eyes red and puffy, my face dirty and tired, my hands red and raw.
I feel my lip quiver and more tears spring out, my heart aches like i've never hurt before. The police man brought me to the police station. They haven't told me what's wrong. But I already know, I know because my heart feels weird, it feels incomplete.
I brush my hair away from my face,
'Blair, dear?' A knock on the door, Miss Campbell, the police lady, calls.
I open the door and look up, tears lining my eyes.
'Honey, can we have a talk please?' She kneels down, and I nod.
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'Sweetheart, your mum and dad...' She starts and I look down. I know, I know. I don't want her to say it.
'Fuck, how do I say this,' I hear her mutter, mum would call that a bad word, but mum isn't here anymore.
I look up 'They're gone..' I whisper.
Her lips frown, and I see the sympathy in her eyes, confirming what I already know.
A horrific, blood curdling sound leaves my body, and I fall on the floor.
'Mum!' I shriek 'Dad!'
This is pain, this is loss, this is mourning, I'm mourning.
I shake viciously, as I scream for them over and over and over again.
'Mum, Dad!?' I scream.
I pull on my hair, thinking 'Why, why, why?!' on repeat.
I scream and scream, consciously not aware of anything except for one thing.
