Sara Coley

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The Blumhouse Boo...
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by J.D. McGregor (Goodreads Author)
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"Not thrilled with the stories. They're only okay." Mar 11, 2019 07:11PM

 
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“Some Tomorrows Never Come. I opened my eyes. I cried. I walked. Then stumbled. Then walked some more. I learned to read. Did homework. Complained. Fought with my parents. Went to college after losing the fight. My friend Randy came to college with me. I did homework. Complained. Met Marcia. Smiled. Understood my parents had been right. Didn’t tell them. Marcia betrayed me. Randy betrayed me. I never actually said goodbye to either one. I figured they didn’t deserve even that. Dropped out of school. "For a while," I said. Cancer took Dad quickly. I never told him he had been right all along. I realized I should at least tell Mom. I didn’t. Went back to college. Graduated. Got a job. Got fired. My boss didn’t like me. There was nothing I could do. I wasted a year. I wanted to prove to them that I wouldn’t be affected by losing my job. I got another job. I left that job to start a business with Ed. We were successful. Ed never respected me like I deserved. I sold my share. His loss, I told myself. I married Pam. We were happy. Pam and I had Elisa. She was happy. I didn’t hurt for the need of money. But Pam still wanted me to go back to work. We weren’t happy. She didn’t respect me like I deserved. Pam and I divorced. She expected me to do all the work when it came to seeing Elisa. I resented her for it. I was not going to let her force me into things anymore. I didn’t see Elisa that often. Mom died. I never did have that conversation with her. I grew old. I didn’t have that much money anymore. Maybe Pam wasn’t entirely wrong. She seemed pretty happy with George. I heard Elisa call him “Dad” one day. Cancer came for me quickly. “I’m sorry, I can’t get over to the hospital after all, something came up. Maybe this weekend?” Elisa said. She had no idea how far away that weekend really was to me. It might as well have been an eternity. From a certain perspective, it was. She hung up without saying goodbye. Later, it was hard to breathe. I looked around the empty room. Oh, God, I wish I hadn’t carried the anger with me. I closed my eyes.”
P.F. McGrail, 50 Shades of Purple: And Other Horror Stories

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