The in between

You’re an inbetweener

You’re between life

You’re between death

You can see your family huddled around you

You can see your boyfriend at the door

But not your brother

Or your sister

Or your mother

Nor your father

Because they’re all gone.

They aren’t inbetweeners

You are an inbetweener

You can’t decide between 

Life And Death

Your grandfather is a man of little words, but he talks to you while you sleep

Your grandmother is sewing you a new blanket to put over your hospital one

Your Aunt cries, your cousin in her arms

Your boyfriend

Well

He just walks out the door

You’re an inbetweener.

You have a choice to make

Will you move on?

Or will you live?

You’re so tired

So

So tired

You close your eyes

You can see the veil

Is that where you want to go?

You can see your mother on the other side

Your brother

Your sister

Your father

But you open your eyes and look back at your family.

Your body is bruised

Broken; in shambles

Blood covers your face

Is that the body you want to go back to?

Life will never be the same.

A young man you don’t know sits in the corner

Tears are streaming down his face.

A woman stands behind him, rubbing his shoulders.

Could you ever forgive him?

But you hear him mumble through the tear stains on his cheeks

“Don’t give up girl. I couldn’t forgive myself if you did.”

And you blinked at him, smiling though he couldn’t see it.

“It’s okay sir. Just don’t do it again.” You said, though he couldn’t hear it.

You stared at the drunk who crashed into your car.

And you knew that you did forgive him

And that you couldn’t forgive yourself if you didn’t.

You close your eyes and look at the faint image of your family behind the veil.

Though you wish, you can’t give up.

You wave to them, and they wave back.

You open your eyes, but this time, you’re looking up at the face of your boyfriend.

He smiles, his eyes red and puffy, tears splashing on your face.

The drunk who crashed stands up and cries again

You smile at what’s left of your family, even the ones who killed them.

“I forgive you,” you whisper, before you sleep once more

And the room fills up with love and devotion, and you smile as you sleep

You’re not an inbetweener.

And you’re glad you chose what you did. That you didn’t give up and leave

Even with new trials ahead