Personal Narrative: O. V. Torment, Grief And Death

Adonis P.O.V
Torment, grief, and death are the epiphany of my childhood if you could even call it that. A bath of my mother’s deep red blood engulfs her body as she lays bare floating in the tub with her wrists slit dripping on the floor. My father crouches over her pale body holding her in his arms releasing an ear piercing wail that fill his burdensome eyes with a stream of tears. I crumble in the wake of my mother’s death I felt as if death was gripping my throat straining my breaths making me unable to relieve the heaviness that clutches my chest. I slumped to my knees at the sight of my mother’s stiff body as if the weight of her death dawned on me drawing me closer to the blood stained floor. A combination of emotions arose from me as heat flushed my cheeks with rage, sadness, and bafflement that consumed my every thought after that day. I clenched my fist tightly holding my gut wrenching agony in my hands as I shout “Mommy! Wake up. I promise I will be better if you come back to me.” As a rush of heated tears trickle from my cheeks that sizzles when touching the ground.
I gradually release the pressure from my fist as I caress my
I buried the pangs of guilt that taunted me with unease each time I closed my pitch-black eyes under the darkest hour of the night. After a month of mourning her passing, my shame is still plastered in my reflection that follows me like a lingering shadow. Once the light blazes into the dusking midnight sky I rest my head on a pillow tossing and turning on my sides wide awake from my enclosing thoughts “Such a coward you are! Who’s to blame for your mother’s death? You are. You stood idly by as she suffered in silence. Who’s to say you aren’t guilty? Death would let you off too easy.” A shiver runs down the back of my spine as goosebumps trail down my arms lifting all of my hairs in an