isla acqua | district two | cbd2 [fin]

Everybody stopped making sense when Pa died. No more order. No more routine. My brothers stopped going out of the front door, their bedrooms and the couch their new training centre...or lounging centre. It is like their world's stopped spinning, all because of one soul departure from this world. I tell them that we must continue, it is the only way we can carry on. They do not listen. Nobody listens anymore. Nobody talks anymore. Nobody talks to me! I am left to carry this family myself. It is what Pa would have wanted anyway. Not the sorrow filled faces that my mother and brothers now possess as a permanent feature.

Why has everyone stopped? Why does so much have to change just because he has died? My life has always been a fight, it is not changing because Pa was too weak to fight off death. He told us to be strong and yet he did not even stand by his own word. Well I intend to be stronger than Pa. Stronger than my sorrowful brothers and a mother who carries a wet handkerchief. Grief is a poor trait. Mourning is weak. Life is what I aim for.