Dear daddy,
I sit by your grave sometimes.
I let the words of your name and timeline blur in my vision as tears streak my face.
I let the sun burn my back as I curl into a ball and cry at the place you are buried. I let myself fall apart and unravel as I sit in despair.
And I wish the grave didn't have to be there, planted firmly into the grass so vibrantly green it looks fake. I wish it would disappear into thin air and let me believe that you're still alive and well.
But I can't change the past.
Love,
Mare
YOU ARE READING
Dear Daddy
Short StoryTormented by a car crash that took her father's life, Mare writes letters to her dad to help herself cope.
