If your child doesn't want to be alive, there is no worse failure you can have as a mother, I reckon. Everything here is still the same on the outside, but I feel like I have died inside.
I should have known. I should have been more available to listen. I should have asked. I should have guessed. I shouldn't have gone out. I should have gone and taken her with me. I should glue her hand to mine.
I should roll back time until this would not happen. How far back? How long ago? I can't work out when it went wrong. Rewinding and rewinding, I am like a broken cassette tape with all my insides spooled out and chewed up. You can wind me back into the plastic case but my music won't come out right.
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