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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Death / Heartbreak / Loss
- Published: 11/25/2016
11/25/2016
There's a ring stand on my vanity that's shaped like a cat. I have left Aurelia alone in the bedroom to play while I cook macaroni and cheese for us. She walks into the kitchen and meows at me. She is only two years old and her voice is so dainty and sweet. She is holding the cat and the rings are missing. My heart stops. I charge at her and snatch the cat, scolding her angrily. She begins to cry and runs back to our bedroom, jumps on the bed that we share and hides her face in the pillows. I find the engagement ring that he gave to me a year before he left me lying on the floor. I place it back on the ring stand and return it to the vanity. I point my finger at the vanity and say to her, in a cruel voice, "No. Do not touch any of this." She silently hugs a stuffed animal for comfort. I return to the kitchen. I begin to feel guilty thinking of her tiny voice, when she only wants to show me the cat that she was talking to. She walks into the kitchen again with a pout on her face, whimpering. I ask her for a hug and she laughs and smiles so big, happy I'm no longer angry with her. She runs into my arms. I don’t want to be this way. I choke back tears, as I always do.
As I always do(Kayla Harris)
11/25/2016
There's a ring stand on my vanity that's shaped like a cat. I have left Aurelia alone in the bedroom to play while I cook macaroni and cheese for us. She walks into the kitchen and meows at me. She is only two years old and her voice is so dainty and sweet. She is holding the cat and the rings are missing. My heart stops. I charge at her and snatch the cat, scolding her angrily. She begins to cry and runs back to our bedroom, jumps on the bed that we share and hides her face in the pillows. I find the engagement ring that he gave to me a year before he left me lying on the floor. I place it back on the ring stand and return it to the vanity. I point my finger at the vanity and say to her, in a cruel voice, "No. Do not touch any of this." She silently hugs a stuffed animal for comfort. I return to the kitchen. I begin to feel guilty thinking of her tiny voice, when she only wants to show me the cat that she was talking to. She walks into the kitchen again with a pout on her face, whimpering. I ask her for a hug and she laughs and smiles so big, happy I'm no longer angry with her. She runs into my arms. I don’t want to be this way. I choke back tears, as I always do.
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