Stage 4 The Great Depression
Stage 4- Depression
I stood for what seemed like hours, not quite believing what I seeing. I stared... and stared... and stared. I stared until my tired eyes hurt, stared until they started to water, my rigid posture slowly crumbling as I came to the realization that Beth Childs was… dead. My Beth was dead.
I fall to the ground and curl into a ball, throwing Donnie's stupid wedding ring to the ground. He wasn't my Beth. The room spun as I drunk from a liquor bottle that had somehow snuck into my hand. I look around, memories coming to mind as I look at each individual thing. The fireplace Beth and I made, its crooked bricks lining the wall of our wooden cottage. The small, fluff bear with splashes of paint on it we could never get out. It was holding a heart filled with the world "I wuv u" that Beth gave me. The "painting" that Beth and I made. A painting that had less paint on it than on ourselves at the time. I take a drink from the liquor, trying to drink myself into a stupor and realize that I was absentmindedly flipping through an old photo album of Beth and I. I let out a sob and fling the photo album away. I start to shake as sobs raked my chest, sobbing as though my life depended on …show more content…
It smelt like tiger lilies and forget-me-nots and…it smelt like Beth.
.
.
.
I wake up several hours later in a warm cocoon of blankets. I blink rapidly, the bright sunlight filling my eyes. Eyelids drooping, I try to remember the last few hours, finding that I had no recollection of getting there.
My body shoots up suddenly and vomit arises from throat. My head is pounding. It feels like it’s banging against the window of a moving bus. It’s an earthquake. I rush to the bathroom, chunks spewing out of my mouth as I run. I hear a creak. My mind registers another presence in the room. I am afraid. I slowly turn my head cautiously, my face frozen is fear, eyes widening as I take in the figure before me. "Beth" I whisper
I stood for what seemed like hours, not quite believing what I seeing. I stared... and stared... and stared. I stared until my tired eyes hurt, stared until they started to water, my rigid posture slowly crumbling as I came to the realization that Beth Childs was… dead. My Beth was dead.
I fall to the ground and curl into a ball, throwing Donnie's stupid wedding ring to the ground. He wasn't my Beth. The room spun as I drunk from a liquor bottle that had somehow snuck into my hand. I look around, memories coming to mind as I look at each individual thing. The fireplace Beth and I made, its crooked bricks lining the wall of our wooden cottage. The small, fluff bear with splashes of paint on it we could never get out. It was holding a heart filled with the world "I wuv u" that Beth gave me. The "painting" that Beth and I made. A painting that had less paint on it than on ourselves at the time. I take a drink from the liquor, trying to drink myself into a stupor and realize that I was absentmindedly flipping through an old photo album of Beth and I. I let out a sob and fling the photo album away. I start to shake as sobs raked my chest, sobbing as though my life depended on …show more content…
It smelt like tiger lilies and forget-me-nots and…it smelt like Beth.
.
.
.
I wake up several hours later in a warm cocoon of blankets. I blink rapidly, the bright sunlight filling my eyes. Eyelids drooping, I try to remember the last few hours, finding that I had no recollection of getting there.
My body shoots up suddenly and vomit arises from throat. My head is pounding. It feels like it’s banging against the window of a moving bus. It’s an earthquake. I rush to the bathroom, chunks spewing out of my mouth as I run. I hear a creak. My mind registers another presence in the room. I am afraid. I slowly turn my head cautiously, my face frozen is fear, eyes widening as I take in the figure before me. "Beth" I whisper