Sample Writings

 This is a sample from my book I thought maybe I would share a piece with you all.
Warning You may need a box of Kleenex.... 
Please be considerate and DO NOT COPY! This is my true life experience and is mine and only mine to share. I am writing for a future book. Thank you gracefully!!!

Tuesday- March 25, 1997

I heard his keys rattle at the door of our apartment as he slowly opened it. His head hanging low and his face as white as a sheet I asked him, “Why are you home early?” I jumped out of the lazy chair I was sitting in watching the late night news.  I grabbed the remote and turned off the television. From the expression on his face I could see that it was something terrible. Kenny said, “I have some really bad news about Rick and Tina.”  I was instantly sick to my stomach when my intuition kicked in, the kind that only a mother can feel. I immediately went into hysterics screaming and crying back at him “NOT MY BABIES, PLEASE GOD, NOT MY BABIES.” He tried reaching for me but I pushed him away. He reached over again just in time to catch me as I was falling to the floor. Collapsed in a heap on the floor where my knees had buckled under me, I felt my life energy draining out of me. My mind was racing trying to digest this news that he has yet to finish telling me. He was cradling me while on his knees and said, “They were in a bad car accident and nobody survived.” In my garbled hysteric screaming cry I demanded how he found out. He replied, “Henry called me at work.” I then sucked up my sobbing tears and whatever strength I could muster to stand breaking free from his hold. Frantically grabbing for the phone to call Henry, Rick’s brother. I wanted to hear the news for myself. When I first tried to call him the line was busy so I called my best friend, Rebecca. She answered the phone; I started screaming, “PLEASE TELL ME MY BABIES ARE OK.” She replied crying, “I’m sorry sweetie, but I can’t” (Henry had called her only a few minutes before while he was trying to reach Kenny, so she knew what had happened). We were only on the phone for a minute before I hung up to try calling Henry again.

 Finally reaching Henry at his mother’s house, I asked softly crying, “Henry is it true? Please tell me that it isn’t true.” He said “It is.” I dropped the phone screaming, “NOT MY BABIES, PLEASE GOD NOT MY BABIES!” I picked up the phone again while on the floor cradled between Kenny’s legs and asked to talk to my father who was there with the grieving group of family. “Hello,” he said. I replied crying, “Daddy this hurts badly. What am I going to do? Is this for real? They can’t be gone. Are you sure that Rick isn’t playing a really bad joke on us?” He said “No, it is true and if you had just stayed in the church (Jehovah’s Witness) this might not have happened.” To which I replied with shock in my voice, “What? You didn’t just say that.” In the background, I could hear my stepmother yell, “Don, No, No, No” and I hung up the phone. In my private thoughts I was wondering if I was really that bad of a daughter that he felt compelled to blame these deaths on me? Turning to look at Kenny, crying, I said “Can you believe he just said that to me? How could anybody, especially a father, say such a horrible thing to his daughter who just found out that her kids are dead?” My body was trembling out of control, tears and emotions I had never felt before now. My heart was aching so bad that I thought it would burst right out of my chest.

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Copyright © 2015 M.E. Masterson