died my
died my 22

22(Afterword)

uisappeared, at last.

Terry knelt before Wendy’s ashes, feeling something vital slip away forever.

He glanced around, a sudden realization hitting him. “Wendy still hasn’t forgiven me,” he whispered.

He stocked up on booze, locking himself away.

Alcohol became his lifeline, and only in his drunken haze could he see the face he yearned for–a face he knew was just a mirage.

Sir Shane had washed his hands of him.

Terry drifted through life, losing all sense of time until he violently coughed up blood.

For the first time, he left the house, begging his mother to take him to the hospital.

When the stomach cancer diagnosis came, Terry’s face showed an eerie relief.

Linda wept, probably regretting her role in arranging their marriage.

“What a curse I’ve brought into this world,” she muttered bitterly.

Terry endured the hell of chemotherapy, finally experiencing Wendy’s ordeal.

As death approached, he lay in his hospital bed, broken.

“Wendy, I had no idea it hurt this much,” he whispered, dialing a number long unused.

It rang, unanswered.

12:30

14/15

In the end, pain and despair clair last time.

The End.

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PART 2

In the end, pain and despair claimed Terry, his eyes closing one

last time.

The End.