Voices, Collettes story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Voices, title says it all really, :)
(The original title is Voices but I had to put Collettes story to the end on this because contents already existed under just Voices.)

Submitted: March 11, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 11, 2010



It wasn’t mum sitting in the chair that day. It wasn’t my mum anyway. It can’t have been. She was so different. Telling off an invisible person behind her and looking through me, not at me. Dad put his hand on my shoulder encouraging me to move forwards and talk to her.
“Hello mum, it’s me Collette. How are you feeling? I got my As level results today mum. Two A’s and a B. Good result yeah. We’re going to go now mum bye.”
She smiled at me when I told her my results. The first smile I’d had in years.
A second’s peace would be enough. Just a second, but I don’t get a seconds peace. Ever.
It was almost midnight that night when the phone rang.
“Is this Collette Jackson?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“I’m Nurse Helen, I’m sorry Collette but you and your father must get to the hospital immediately.”
I put the phone down and woke dad up.
I just wanted it to be quiet, for a while. Just a while.
“I’m going to die Collette, if not from the overdose, the voices are going to kill me. Just be happy Coll, please just be happy”
I sat with her until she’s gone and then sat and comforted dad till he slept. She’d gone, she’d gone and was never coming back.
And for the first time in a long time it was quiet. So quiet.
I knew dad had been ill before mum went into hospital. I also knew he was only holding on for mum. So it was no surprise that once mum died, dad got worse.
“You can die dad. You don’t have to suffer for me. Be at peace. I love you, and I always will. Don’t forget me. I will see you again. Be happy. Say hello to mum for me and tell her I love her. I love you.”
And he was gone. Gone gone gone.
I didn’t live in faith that I would get better, just that when I died she would be happy and safe.
Now I stand above his grave. I stand above his grave looking at the flowers, the stone, the words. I stand above his grave and there are no voices. There are no voices.
Just silence.

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