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The Passing

Updated on May 27, 2010

A woman sat at the side of a dying man, crying into her hands. The mans eyes were hollow and dark, his face coated with sweat and his shallow breath was becoming fainter. This man had been bed ridden for 7 days now, his chances low and all hope had left his red face.

The only thing that kept a small, weak smile on this mans face as he slowly slipped away was the girl perched on his bed, holding his hand.

She had not shed a single tear and if she did, it would not be in front of this man. As she sat there, she looked into his eyes and prayed for his recovery. She was the only one who would not give up on him.

This effort was a waste as the man’s smile began to fade, his eyes began to shut, his breath faded to nothing and his grip on the girl loosened till his hand fell flat against the bed.

The room fell quiet; all that could be heard was the women’s tearful sobs and her voice whispering his name as she rocked back and forth.

The girls hand reached across the bed for something, she gripped it tight. She looked at the crying women with eyes full of sympathy.

 

The girl rose from the bed and walked to the door; no one looked up at her or noticed the object she held tightly in her hand. She stepped out into the hall. One foot after the other, she walked slowly across the floor, towards the garden. The girl had long brunette hair, vivid green eyes and rounded full mouth.

Her eyes were deep set and framed with long dark eyelashes and her lips were a shade of delicate pink. She wore a long, blue gown, edged with white lace. Her hair was filled with small blue flowers that had been picked from the garden.

As she walked through the garden, she took no notice of the exotic and vibrant flowers. Nothing seemed to matter now, all she did was face the floor and walk straight forward.

The dress trailed along the grass as she walked towards the oak tree. Nobody was around; they had all gone to mourn the passing of the man.

 

The girl sat down at the bottom of the tree and rested her head had against the tree trunk. She lifted the object to her face, It was a picture frame with a photo of the man inside. The man had brown hair, with the same eyes as the girl. His mouth was surrounded by a beard and he wore a grey suit.. She brushed the picture with her finger, and then sat it down beside her.

She closed her eyes and the first tear of many fell and travelled down her cheek. A trail was left as she didn’t have the energy to wipe it . One single word escaped her lips before heavy, painful sobs erupted from her chest.

“Daddy”

 

NB - I didn't write this, my daughter Abbie did. She's entering her final year of school. After returning from the dentist, she came and told me she'd been writing. I love the simplicity of her tale, the poignancy and the fact that she'd written it so easily and eloquently for one so young. It is unedited, completely her own words.

Please leave her a comment - such things are so empowering to young people. And ... she is a beautiful girl ;)

 

 

Pitcures: Wikipedia Commons

Abbie :) 12 minutes ago

Thank you all so much for commmenting such nice things.

I didnt think it was really that good but i guess I've been proved wrong :)

I am very happy that you all read it and liked it, it was a great surprise to me.

I dont write that often but i will try to post another one soon :)

Thank you again

working

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