Laurel Dunaway
Journal Entry
The first thoughts to properly stick were about the timing. Specifically, how very bad it was. The second was the taste of bile rising in my throat. I could feel it. This is it. My life as I knew it was over. He’s going to die, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. This is where it ends, I thought. This is where I don’t get him back. I plead into the darkness. Not now. Especially not now.
This is where it endsNot nowEspecially not now.James would brush it off, if I were to tell him how bad it really got. How far down the rabbit hole I went. If I were to tell him, which I wouldn’t—I won’t—he would tell me I was overacting. But then, how could he know that? It’s hard to say until you get to the end, and we weren’t there yet.
In my mind, it wasn’t an exagge
