"Come and tell your Aunty Peg all about it”
I faltered as I heard this. I was wrong, a bad person, a worry to all. Yet she welcomed me, I always knew she loved me and wished to heal me. A special person to trust. Family? Home?
I told her everything. She nodded, she wiped a tear. She held her arms out to hold me afterwards. I was better now. I could breathe without that hammering in my chest. Freedom?
“Not yet,” she said as if reading my mind. “Go tell your Dad, Mam and sister, leave your Nan to me”
I couldn’t, wouldn’t, fear returning with wings aflame, scorching my safety.
“Tell them” she repeated.
Two years later, at her funeral, my tears soaking the collar of my shirt, they held me, Mother, Father and my Sister.
Big Paul lives in Carmarthenshire, where he gets inspiration from his surroundings. An ex-poet, he aspires to become a writer of stuff.