Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > And Without A Sound....And I Wish You Away
Part One: Cobain's Disease
1: Too Long
November, 2009
"Mommy?"
Jamia Nelson looked up from the book she held in her long-fingered hands. Her daughter stood in the doorway of the small study.
"Why aren't you in bed, baby?"
She ambled over to her and climbed up to perch on the arm of the chair. "You know how you said a long time ago that Daddy wasn't gonna come home?" she asked finally.
Jamia's throat tightened. A long time... it had been less than six months. But Carmen was so little, barely four years old, so it must have felt like forever.
"Yes, honey."
"How come?" the little girl asked innocently.
Oh, God, not now, Jamia found herself thinking desperately. Not while she was so little. She studied Carmen for a minute, debating how much to tell her. She was her father in miniature-the same build and hair and mesmerizing eyes.
"Carmen, baby," she said after a long silence, during which the little girl had began to suck her thumb. "Sometimes... people can't take living here anymore."
How the hell could she explain what had happened to a four-year-old? "But he's up in Heaven, and he loves us both very much."
Carmen's big, dark eyes welled with heavy tears as she looked up at her. "If he loves us, why didn't he stay with us?"
Jamia had asked herself that question so many times...
She wrapped her arms around the little girl and kissed the top of his head. "I don't know, hon."
"Why did he leave?" Carmen asked and sniffled.
"I don't know."
"Was it because of Gerard or Mikey or Ray or Bob or-"
"No, baby," Jamia said. "None of them."
"Was it because of you, Mommy?"
She deserved some truth.
"Yes, baby. Now, go back to bed, Mommy needs to go to sleep, too."
Carmen walked until she was at the door, then looked over her shoulder at her mother. "What did you do, Mommy?"
She didn't answer.
1: Too Long
November, 2009
"Mommy?"
Jamia Nelson looked up from the book she held in her long-fingered hands. Her daughter stood in the doorway of the small study.
"Why aren't you in bed, baby?"
She ambled over to her and climbed up to perch on the arm of the chair. "You know how you said a long time ago that Daddy wasn't gonna come home?" she asked finally.
Jamia's throat tightened. A long time... it had been less than six months. But Carmen was so little, barely four years old, so it must have felt like forever.
"Yes, honey."
"How come?" the little girl asked innocently.
Oh, God, not now, Jamia found herself thinking desperately. Not while she was so little. She studied Carmen for a minute, debating how much to tell her. She was her father in miniature-the same build and hair and mesmerizing eyes.
"Carmen, baby," she said after a long silence, during which the little girl had began to suck her thumb. "Sometimes... people can't take living here anymore."
How the hell could she explain what had happened to a four-year-old? "But he's up in Heaven, and he loves us both very much."
Carmen's big, dark eyes welled with heavy tears as she looked up at her. "If he loves us, why didn't he stay with us?"
Jamia had asked herself that question so many times...
She wrapped her arms around the little girl and kissed the top of his head. "I don't know, hon."
"Why did he leave?" Carmen asked and sniffled.
"I don't know."
"Was it because of Gerard or Mikey or Ray or Bob or-"
"No, baby," Jamia said. "None of them."
"Was it because of you, Mommy?"
She deserved some truth.
"Yes, baby. Now, go back to bed, Mommy needs to go to sleep, too."
Carmen walked until she was at the door, then looked over her shoulder at her mother. "What did you do, Mommy?"
She didn't answer.
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