Home > Flash Fiction, Random > ugghhh


Ugghhh is really the only word I can come up with. Sometimes, the story just comes out sad.

|: – (

L. E. White


It felt like my cheeks were going to burn. The heat of the tears as they slid over my skin burnt, even if they wouldn’t leave a mark. I never knew if it was because they were warmer than the air or if it was from the salt in them. I would never know, because I didn’t care enough to look it up. They burned when they came out and I hated them.

Of course, they were my own fault. I know that to sit and stare at old pictures brings up memories. I had been hoping that I would have happy memories, but as usual, my mind went somewhere dark and painful. I wish I had more control of it, but I just couldn’t muster up enough energy to fight the flow. After a while, you just can’t keep fighting.

Some people say you choose to be happy or not. I say the only people who can do that are the ones who have managed to avoid the deepest pain. There comes a point where you are so far down in the hole that the light won’t really stand out from the darkness anymore. I also think that the only people who go that deep are the ones holding their own shovels.

The picture was a happy one. It showed me my children, who are all gone and their children have children of their own. It showed me a time before they started doing things I didn’t agree with. It showed me a time from so long ago that I still grounded them.

That picture had her in it.

She was smiling, the same way she had before she had gotten sick. Her eyes were bright, sparkling with love and mischief and a little bit of chaos that bordered on evil.

I loved her.

Once, on a hot summer day long before the pain had come, I had told friends that I would do anything for her. It had been true and years later, that was exactly what I had done.



In the end, it had all been nothing. I made deals, committed sins and performed dark acts, all for her. I was so desperate to get our happiness back that I let them lie to me. I had to try. I would create my own happiness. I decided that I would choose rather than letting things be decided for me.

I tried.

I failed.

The tears burn, but they won’t leave a mark. They won’t leave any scars on the outside. The scars that crying leaves behind are all on the inside. They rip open with every new tear.

Categories: Flash Fiction, Random Tags:
  1. No comments yet.
  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: