Grace Marshall


"The Waterfall" Part 1 of 2

Grace Marshall - Tuesday, November 01, 2016


“She’s dying,” I barely heard my father say.

My mother was going into hysterics. She had been by my side for the past several days and had held my hand with every drip of chemo but it was no use, I was dying.

I had already lived past their expectations. The doctors had said three to six months and I was on my seventh month, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. I had only held on this long for my mother, but I was weak and I was tired of trying; my father knew it.

The hospital room was blurry and so were the shapes of my mother and father and trying to concentrate on them just made my head ache so I closed my eyes.


‘No! No! No!’ Rushed through my mind as I desperately plunged onward. I was exhausted. The air I fought to suck into my lungs burnt with fire.

My legs ached and my ankles were burning. Each oncoming tree, branch, or bush was just another obstacle to dodge or leap over. The woods itself seemed to be an obstacle to overcome. I could hear the wind whistling past my ears and feel the shadow following me. It was a black and looming shadow even though there was hardly any sun to cast the shadow on the ground, as the sky was dark and sinister.

Sometimes I could see it from the corner of my eye, swooping through the trees. I wasn’t sure what it was anymore. Somehow it had gone from the initial lion in the field to some type of predatory bird.

~"The Waterfall" Part 1 of 2
Grace Marshall


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