Without Her

Christina Prado Morales

Darkness. Confusion. Stuck. Full of overthinking the smallest things.

My head just all over the place, consuming me bit by bit.

Coping. The idea that he won’t open that front door again, and say hello in his calm and caring voice, give me a kiss on the forehead, and ask, “How was school today, Christi?” To hear his voice one more time.

Grief. Emptiness. Heartache. I know I have her. She is the sunlight that I adore the most.

I am in a blank room, being restrained. Painful memories replaying over and over. I would most likely lose my sanity, without her.