Chapters (71)
I push the door open, every fibre of me expecting to see my little girl lying in the bed singing the song my dad had sung to me at bedtime and that I had passed on to her. But the room is empty.
‘It’s the pills,’ I think to myself as I stagger inside and sit down on the single bed. They’re playing tricks with my head.
I lie on the bed, tucking my knees to my chest. I want someone to hold me and let me cry and cry until I have no tears left in my body. This loneliness is unbearable.
I turn on my side and see the ICU diary sitting on top of the chest of drawers. I need to distract myself, need to fill this unbearable silence. So I sit up in the bed and grab the diary. I read the next of Claire’s entries where she notes that I was ‘twitching my hands a lot this morning’ and that my ‘eyes flickered when we turned the radio on’. I turn the page and what I see makes my stomach flip. Sean’s handwriting. He has written in this diary. How could I have missed it? I turn the pages. There are several entries, all in his distinctive jagged handwriting. I’m lightheaded with shock. Turning back to his first entry, I begin to read.