Recycled Grief

Joined: November 19th, 2011, 10:33 pm

June 25th, 2013, 6:45 am #1

The familiar looking girl looked at herself in the mirror, staring at the collar around her neck. Don watched the familiar girl move, with her familiar gait, and rock herself on the unfamiliar bed. It couldn’t be his sister. She was pronounced dead weeks ago. Jaquilyn Locke had died in a plane crash with the rest of Aurora High.

He’d finally accepted the fact. He’d screamed at his dad over the phone, called him a liar, told him it wasn’t funny. He’d watched the news obsessively waiting for wreckage to be found, or for better news. He’d waited to hear that she’d managed to steal a parachute off the plane and jump off before it crashed. She was always the daredevil, it wasn’t THAT far of a stretch, even if it was… It had taken so much strength to accept she was dead.

He’d gotten over his rage. He’d cursed the idiot pilot, cursed the airline that had hired him despite obvious incompetence, cursed the horrible weather they must have hit, cursed the God who had created it, cursed the school for planning a fucking senior trip, cursed the government for having been wrong. He’d managed to accept that some things couldn’t be controlled, and that holding on to anger was not how baby sister’s life should be celebrated.

Don was even coming out of the dark depression that the new void in his life had dragged him into. After an eternity of mourning and sorrow, he had finally found resolution in knowing his sister was in a better place. Now, a frighteningly similar girl was on screen, tip-toeing towards the door she’d locked herself behind. Scared beyond anything anybody could ever relate too. People who thought they knew fear were pussies compared to these kids.

It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be. Please, just let her be resting in peace. Let her be in heaven, let her be safe.


He slammed his fists on the desk and leaned in closer to the screen. She was opening the door… it all seemed impossibly slow to Don. She was moving her head towards the opening. He could see from a different angle that nobody was waiting at the door… She was opening her mouth…


Jesus fucking Christ. It was Jaqui.

He couldn’t breathe. Letting air into his lungs would prove that he was awake and this was for real. Feeling anything that wouldn’t wake him up would be unbearable.

A small meow emitted from beneath the desk and a small presence pressed itself against his pant leg.



This was real. Don’s hands clapped to the sides of his head as he read the words that appeared at the bottom of the screen now.

(G017, Jaquilyn Locke, Start.)