Summary: Is there ever enough time in the world?
Word Count: 468
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all people Twilight related.
Picture: Prompt 2...
Time. We always think we have lots of it. More than enough to let the everyday mundane things pass us by. A heartfelt hug, a quick smile, a baby's laugh. Put off today what you can do tomorrow.
Days, nights... time passed by in a blur of tears, my body weighed down with the knowledge that they were forever gone. For two weeks now I had felt this numbing, crushing pain radiating from deep inside me.
No more would I hear my sister's witty remarks, my fathers deep baritone laugh. I would never again feel my mother's hand run through my hair as she held me tight, warding off the demons in my head.
I wake up screaming their names, sweat soaking my t-shirt, the pillow beneath my head drenched in tears. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I idly wonder when I'll wake up from this neverending nightmare.
Her book sits on the table before me. Mother loved to read, a loyal Jane Austin fan. She would sip Earl Grey tea from a fancy china teacup, reading in the cool evening breeze glancing up at my sister and I playing tag on the grass below our back deck. There was always a ready smile on her face.
I run my hand across my face. Picking up the book it falls open to the last page she had read. I remember as if it were yesterday.
"Jasper, I'll be here whenever you need me." I nod my head not wanting to lie to her. She always knew when something was bothering me. She held my hand, the confession on the tip of my tongue when Rosie burst through the door. Emmett had asked her to marry him.
My parents joy at the wonderful news brought pain to my heart. I shouldn't be jealous of my sister; it wasn't her fault. It brought home the fact that my life would never be that simple.
They were gone before I crawled out of bed. A trip to Port Angeles for a wedding dress. My father fell asleep; they died instantly. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye.
I glanced at my fathers pocket watch; broken beyond repair like my heart. I snorted at the irony of the situation, the hands stilled at 4:05. Time stands still for no man.
I cried for my parents, my younger sister so recently engaged. If I could turn back the clock I would have been with them that day. No amount of time will erase the pain in my heart. I can only hope for an angel of my own to stitch the broken pieces back together.
The ticking of the clock on the wall reminds me of all that I've lost.