(F.F.F. Website Story)
Why didn’t she tell me? She’s always been secretive.
There were half-filled boxes and baby things everywhere. Alone in her bedroom, I re-opened the book and read a little more.
Her words echoed within me:
My heart replaced by a hanging bat with folded wings.
My head buried beneath a mountain obscured by clouds.
My house became a merry-go-round for infant ghosts.
I didn’t hear Victoria come up behind me.
“So this is what it was like to lose-”
“Of course not,” she snapped, snatching her diary from my hands, “but this is what it was like in words.”