Hello again,
I know I've kept you waiting long enough, for which I apologise, and I won't keep you waiting even longer with a long paragraph of author's notes ...


Every gut feeling tells me to trust, trust that Dave will wait and mourn my death a little longer. Just long enough to allow me to get used to the idea. I know it hardly matters, he'll do what he'll do and I can do nothing to stop it, but the hope's there and sometimes hope's all you need.
Michelle walks through our front door to relieve my sister of her babysitting duties, while Dave is at work. She is stunningly beautiful woman and a brilliant mother to Dave's daughter, Tanya. I've never bared her a grudge, I don't really know her, I think Dave was weary of how jealous I can, at times, be and was keen, for that reason alone, to keep us apart.
My sister is back to her usual self, there's no sympathetic tears, no soft and broken words to soften the blows she throws at people left right and centre.
Empathising with her is getting harder and harder every day. But I am keen to keep my feet off the ground and not take the moral high ground as I was used to in life.
After all I was far from perfect.
Michelle's by the table and Anna's muttering, quite loudly, about Michelle wanting Dave again and although both Anna and I know it's a possibility, I wouldn't be too bothered if one day they did get back together.
At least he wouldn't be alone.
But, not now, please I cannot bare the idea of losing him so soon after I've died.
I wonder what Michelle thinks of my death, thinks of what's going on, how everyone's coping? I hope she thinks of Dave, after all he needs someone to hold his back.
I look further ahead and see that Ewan's lying on the couch, his leg up against the couch. Everyone knows he's not really hurt his leg, but some are more subtle than my sister.
I know what he's trying to say and my inability to help him crushes my soul.

I need someone to hold me
I need dad to be the way he used to be.
I need mum.


I stand in the doorway of the garage, watching him rummaging through box after box, trying to find something, I don't know what.

What are you doing Ewan?

I go to call to him and remember that he cannot hear me. It's strange, I have forgotten what my voice sounds like, even in my head I cannot recall the sound.
He grabs the hammer.
Pulls up a chair.
My heart begins to pound.
All I can do is stand here, in the silent air and watch as he lifts the hammer above his head, shaking in fear, like a leaf.

Stop

I pray, hoping that, although there's no power in my voice, my thoughts might persuade him otherwise.

Stop

but there's nothing I can do as I watch the hammer come down on his leg,
hearing my heart break as he begins to scream.


Hope this has been worth the wait.