I sat alone on the bean bag, the room swallowed in an eerie silence. My thoughts were consumed by memories of my mom, flooding my mind like a tidal wave. The weight of it all, the pain, the trauma, was almost too much to bear. Tears burned behind my eyes, threatening to fall, but I fought them back. This was a memory I never wanted to recall, but it lingered, haunting me with its vivid details.
The flashback hit me, sharp and relentless.
I was holding Julie’s hand, walking into our apartment. I remember seeing my dad kneeling beside my mom. Her dress was soaked with blood, and he was trying, desperately, to stop the bleeding. His hand kept slipping from the spot where she’d been shot, and every time it did, more blood poured out.
My heart slammed against my chest. I let go of Julie’s ha
