#tfsog

[emslancaster-blog]

The five stages of grieving | Anger

“She was not to blame" Emma ends up repeating to herself like a mantra. Blood dripping from her hand, a smashed mirror, and the memory of a dead sister: all that’s left. Why is an unnecessary inquiry; who to blame is worth the effort of asking. His name remains unspoken ever since their death, as the face of beloved man brings nothing but fury within the younger Lancaster anyway. There is nothing left to do; still, she needs to believe Ella didn’t bring this upon herself.

[emslancaster-blog]

The five stages of grieving | Denial

     This is how it starts. Ella. Ella. Ella. Ella. Two babies. Two. Emma. Ella. Emma. Ella. Emma. Ella and Emma. Emma and Ella. Two. Twins. Ella. Emma. Elma. Elma. Elma. Together; Emma and Ella. Ella. Emma. Ella. Emma. Emma. Emma. Emma. Emma. Emma. For the rest of her life; Emma.

       Emma isn’t certain of many things; the Universe poses many intricate questions, and how can one be sure about anything? Appreciated for her intelligence, the woman is no fool. This, however, this she knows: Ella is not dead. You are dead. Emma is dead. But Ella is not dead.

     With that, life follows its course: Ella. Emma. Ella. Emma. Ella. Emma. The clock takes time away, but it won’t ever take Ella away from Emma. How could it, when Ella is smiling back at Emma through the mirror? “Should I get out the icecream and the wine? Will’s not coming tonight, so no hard liquor.”

       She seems to be surprisingly composed, apt to contain any shock that usually follows. Denial, as some know, can have such an effect. In her clouded mind, only an isolated thought is decipherable, as she reaches the door handle on her sister’s kitchen: when did Ella dye her hair blonde?