If Only

The mere thought of losing someone so dear was once an absurd concept to me, something I couldn't quite fathom. But now, now that I have experienced it, I understand the depth of the pain that comes with it.It was the day my grandfather passed away that my world was turned upside down. He was my confidante, my mentor, my friend. He was the only one who ever truly understood me, who always knew how to make me feel better. His death was like a dagger to my heart, and the wound never truly healed.Every day is a struggle, a constant battle to keep myself together. I can't even begin to imagine the person I would be if I lost someone else. The mere thought of it makes me shudder.I rarely leave my room, and when I do, it's only to go through the motions of life. I barely speak to anyone, and the laughter that once came so easily is now a distant memory. I can't even bring myself to visit my grandparents' house, the place that held so many happy memories.I am different now, a shadow of t

I slowly descended the stairs, taking in every word my mom said, and the weight of her voice seemed to grow heavier with every passing moment. My heart sank at the mention of my grandparent's house. The thought of it being in a state of disrepair filled me with an overwhelming sense of sadness. "What do you mean?" I asked, hoping that maybe it wasn't as bad as she made it seem. "I mean, the house has been neglected for a while now. There are cracks in the walls, the roof is leaking, and some of the windows are broken. I didn't want to tell you before, but I think you need to see it for yourself." I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. The thought of my grandparent's home falling apart was almost too much to bear. It was the one place where I always felt safe and loved, and now it was in shambles. I almost want to go immediately, but a sharp pain slices through my chest like a knife, and suddenly I'm flooded with questions. Am I really ready for this? Can I handle facing the

As I stomped my way back to the gate, rumbling words and wishing the worst possible things upon the stranger who had crossed my path, I couldn't help but feel like I had strayed from my usual demeanor. But encountering that guy had put me in a sour mood."Kid? Kid? Who does he think he is?"Just as I was about to enter the gate, a familiar voice spoke behind me, causing me to pause for a moment to process who it might be."Well, you don't look like you're having a good day."My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the voice. It was overly familiar, and it stopped me dead in my tracks. I turned around swiftly and practically ran over to where she was standing."Lizzy!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around her so tightly I was sure she found it hard to breathe."Woah, Woah, Woah... you big piece of bear..." Lizzy chuckled, complaining about my tight embrace. But she knew she couldn't blame me. We hadn't seen each other in months.After I finally pulled away from her, my mouth ran with q

I waited anxiously, anticipating the door to burst open and expose Jared and me. However, the darkness continued to envelop us in the small space of the closet, and the door remained firmly shut. I wondered what was going on. My father was still attempting to twist the doorknob, but it refused to move, just like earlier when I had tried to open it. I could hear my dad groaning in frustration, and I knew that we had bought ourselves some time. I moved away from the door, and Jared followed suit, his back pressed against the wall. His voice was barely audible when he whispered into my ear, "Whoa, slow down there." His words sent shivers down my spine, and I suddenly realized that my hands had instinctively grabbed onto the front of his shirt, pulling us closer together. I hadn't meant to do that, but the situation had escalated so quickly. However, our closeness became the least of my concerns when I heard my father's voice coming through the door. "This doorknob has been used enough

I turn each page, captivated by the diverse array of drawings all crafted by Jared.His skill in depicting the exposed forms of these women, who bared themselves exclusively for his artistic vision, is truly remarkable... although the notion of him having glimpsed the nakedness of multiple women does leave a disconcerting impression.My thoughts were drawn back to the moment he mentioned starting this collection of works when he was just 18. I couldn't help but notice the stack of albums resting on the chair beside us, and a curious thought emerged in my mind. I decided to voice my question, driven purely by my inquisitiveness."How old are you, anyway?" I asked, catching him off guard with the unexpected inquiry. His gaze shifted towards me, his expression betraying his surprise at the question.His arm rested on the back of the couch, hovering close to my shoulder. He composed himself, offering a slight shrug in response."I was 18 seven years ago... you can do the math," he replied