Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Until the moment the curtains close and the coffin goes on the conveyor into the furnace only small tears fall, tears that aren’t sure what emotion it is they carry in their watery depths. Grief, pain, sorrow, anger… I feel it all. Confusion. Why is this happening? I shouldn’t be here. We should be at home feeling my bump and talking about what colours to paint the nursery.
I realise this is it, this is real; he’s leaving me. I will never see Caleb’s face or hear him talk again. I want to jump onto the conveyor make them stop and beg the funeral director to take the body back so I can have a few more days looking at him and talking to him. But I know it’s not possible, the dam breaks and the tears fall. Tears of sorrow, tears of loss and grief and every emotion that solidifies just how lonely and distraught I feel.
I can’t even say goodbye. I’m scared if I try to connect with him in the slightest way I’ll start screaming and I won’t stop. The sobs are already bad enough. Will this pain ever end?
He goes up in flames and that’s it, time for the wake but I don’t go to that. Instead I travel back home with all of my friends and go to our local. We sit and chat about memories while I sip an orange juice and try to join in. After a few long minutes of forcing conversation I find a quiet corner and slowly die inside.
I had the man every woman wants.
And now I don’t.
It feels like the end.
Just… The End.
I wish I could drink my sorrows away, this isn’t getting easier. Sasha and Tommy have left to go back to University and their lives. I know I should move but I can’t. The most I can do is lie in bed and pretend I’m somebody else. Pretend he’s here beside me.
They can’t stay any longer plus they feel like they’re not helping.
I’m a lost cause. I have nobody.
Well… I have nobody I want, I only want him. His family haven’t called and I don’t want them too. I have enough to deal with. I have bills to pay that I can’t afford and I’m having a baby in five months.
FIVE MONTHS!
It’s been a week since the funeral and my mum still hasn’t been in touch. What’s worse is, Caleb’s bank account was emptied by his parents (I assume) so there’s no way for me to pay the bills. I should go to work but what’s the point? I still won’t be making enough to cover everything.
I’m stuck in a rut and I don’t want to claw my way out.
Sasha was right, if you let yourself spiral into darkness, you’ll never find your way back.
“Why’d you leave me Caleb?”
I can’t cope. I’m going to lose everything. I’m going to have to give up the house.
So I do the one thing I never thought I’d do.
I call his parents. I beg them for help with the rent, to help with something. It takes every ounce of pride I have left but I can’t do this alone. Babies cost money and they have money, I don’t.
His father slams the phone down and when his mother calls back she tells me, “It’s your fault he’s dead. If he hadn’t have met you this never would have happened.” What’s worse is… she’s right.
Everything goes to shit. I can’t pay the bills, I can’t even afford bread. Sasha gave me a hundred pounds but it’s not enough to cover the electric. My paycheque came in yesterday and that’s barely enough to cover the gas.
Chicago’s gave me five hundred pounds to help. They collected the money from staff and customers to put towards expenses. I put it all in the bank and pray for help. For strength. For courage.
It doesn’t come.
Even if I use this five hundred to pay the bills. I’m still going to lose the house. And I refuse to go on benefits yet and even if I did there wouldn’t be enough to cover the rent and utilities. But this is our house. We decorated it together!
I don’t want to lose it.
But I do.
Two weeks go by and I lose the house, fortunately considering the circumstances they don’t sell my things. They put them in a warehouse for me to collect when I get a new place. So I go to my mum’s thinking she’ll take me in considering the circumstances, even though she hasn’t so much as texted me since she found out I was pregnant.
The door opens, my mum takes one look at me and sneers in disgust, “He’s left you.”
“What?” I gasp, tears pooling in my eyes. “No… mum, he’s dead.” How has she not heard?
She looks shocked but it doesn’t last, “And now you want to come home?”