Zack James

Excerpt From a Novel I’m Slowly Writing

It’s been three weeks since the funeral, and all I could do was visit Rose’s grave. Every day, for hours on end, I just stood there thinking in a perpetual loop. Maybe this is a dream. She’ll walk up behind me, hug me, and we’ll smile. It’ll be any minute now. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. Maybe this is a dream…that’s where the loop restarted, just going and going. There wasn’t anything else my mind could think of. Accepting what had happened felt impossible, as if this was all one big mistake. Rose wasn’t the type of person who could be killed, her life couldn’t just be over. I felt like such a child for thinking like this, but there was no way around it. She was always there in each of my darkest hours, so where is she now?