Felicity Slaughter

Rookie - 10 Points (January,1995 / New Port Richey, Florida)

Doomsday - Poem by Felicity Slaughter

A phone call.
To answer it would
mean eternal grief.

The ring, I hear it
so clearly.
A hand touches the
black plastic, lifts it
to the ear.

A message is delivered.

'Jenna, early release.'
For me? Why now?
So late in the day?

A swing of a bookbag
over my shoulder, and
I am gone.

I see my mother's
face. Why so grave?
I wait, for I will soon
find out.

A short car ride
seems like a lifetime.

We arrive at a house,
a friends. But why here?
Why now?
Confusion swirls my brain
as I climb the steps.

I sit on the couch.
I know the fabric so well.
The faded blue, rough
fabric I've sat on so many

My mother.
She sits beside me.
A look in her eyes and
I know something horrific
has happened.

I will soon hear the words
I never imagined in my worst
nightmares I would hear.

'Last night, your
Grandpa Bailey passed away.'

I was ten years old.

The thought lingered
in my mind a moment
as I processed the terrible

Suddenly the gravity of what
I had just heard hits me in
the pit of the chest, hard.

Tears cascaade uncontrollably
down my cheeks, and my
chest constricts.

My doomsday has come.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, July 16, 2010

Poem Edited: Sunday, January 16, 2011

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