Promise me?

[D_Marx]

Short story about a girl's ability to move forward.

~~~~~

She looked at herself in the mirror, the scissors lying in the sink still warm from their use. Dana didn’t recognize the figure in front of her; it was her intent. Her black hair, the soft tresses which once tickled the skin at her midriff was now lifeless on the wood-paneled floor.

Alan stood behind her as she ran her hands over the cropped hair. What was once long and luxurious was now short and silky. “It’s different.” She said nothing. “Is this a way of escaping the fact that she’s looking back at you right now?”

“She never cropped my hair. It wasn’t becoming of a lady.”

“Teenage rebellion after death?” She sent him a reproachful look. Alan of all people knew what she’d been going through these past few weeks, and it was a surprise he wanted her around after the funeral at all.

“Reminder.” His hands touched her shoulders. She was somewhat comforted from the rare gesture, half expecting him to turn and leave. Her eyes widened and she was suddenly kneeling down over the toilet coughing. His hand was on her back, soothing circles into her tense muscles.

“My mother is still alive. It’s different.” Wiping her mouth, Dana clung to the rim and fought back the urge to hurl once again. Tears fell from her eyes into the discolored water. She was a terrible person, and she sat down with her back to the toilet. Alan held her shoulders as she drank from a glass he gave her.

“I want her back and I don’t.” Cancer, she thought, was unforgiving.

“I’ll have Eve clean this up. Lets get brunch.”  

[NovaKing]

your choice of language and your imagry were both spot on. Excelent, to say the least.  

[[.Disposable Dweeb.]]

I really liked this, your wording was very, very good. I really hope you are considering doing more work on this, I enjoyed reading it.