Mourning Never Comes Novels & Stories

One that makes you feel numb. She wasn't grieving because she missed her mother in the usual way. Jessica was mourning everything she never had. The birthdays and achievements that went unnoticed. The hugs she didn’t get. The pain she hid. The nights she cried alone, thinking she was the problem. The days she stood alone at school gates waiting. The ceremonies she attended without her mother. It all hurt.

When everything is set up and the bonfire is burning big and bright people took turns lighting incense including Chris and myself. People got up and spoke about those they had lost and even though I didn’t know these people, hearing their friends and family speak about them with so much love made me feel as though I’d known them my whole life. I know we’re supposed to celebrate and honour life, but I can’t help but feel sad and shed tears as I listen to people speak. It just makes me sad that one minute a person can be there bringing joy into your life and then in an instant they’re gone. I never really got to mourn my parents or give them the funerals they deserved. I don’t even know what b

Pregnancy. The third wheel. Those words kept swirling in my mind, causing my eyes to fill with tears. I kept gulping down glass after glass of liquor, thinking maybe I could gather the courage to march up to them and throw it in their faces. But my body wouldn't listen. I remained frozen on the spot, trembling with hurt, and my voice was stuck in my throat. The people at the next table, tipsy from their drinks, suddenly started calling out to Adrian.

“They buried their grief incorrectly.” My stomach twisted painfully. “What does that mean?” The answer came from the observers themselves. Broken voices flooding through the signal. “The Mourning was born after Aeris died.” The network dimmed heavily. “Collective grief accumulated beyond emotional processing thresholds.” Nathan frowned sharply. “You created it?” Silence. Then: “Not intentionally.” Cold dread spread through me. Because suddenly I understood. The Mourning wasn’t a creature originally. It was grief. Unprocessed. Suppressed. Abandoned for centuries until it became conscious.

Not ever. ---

I swear it. Phobos unobtrusively watches me as I drill into the soil like a maddened female he does not interrupt me allowing me to say my goodbyes this way. Once I find the hollow hole to be satisfactory I place Momo inside but the throbbing of my heart is intolerable. I clamp my soiled palms over my eyes allowing myself to mourn first, I can bury him later when I have more strength. Why must my life always be filled with such persistent pain?

All three of my mates say as I close my eyes as the pain and anger break me. The days that follow her passing are a haze of mourning and disbelief, the world moving in slow motion around us as we struggle to come to terms with our loss. The house feels emptier than ever, her absence a gaping wound that refuses to heal. Adrian, Blake, and Levi cling to me in silent solidarity, their presence a balm to my shattered heart as we navigate the tumultuous sea of grief together.

she said again, her voice softer now as the weight of Lewis's loss and his need for support sunk in. **** The rain poured relentlessly, drenching the earth and adding a heavy layer of sorrow to the already somber occasion. Mourners gathered under umbrellas, their faces etched with grief as they prepared to say their final goodbyes to Lauren Miller. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and the muted sounds of whispered condolences.

Chapter 1: Danger “Mother, why did you leave me alone in this world?” murmured a girl in a weak tone while touching her mother’s gravestone that had just been stuck in the ground. Her bright brown iris did not stop looking at the mound of earth that had just been made. Underneath the mound of earth was her mother’s body, which had been lying there for eternity. The girl tried to hold back the cries that might escape her tiny lips. Because she was too focused on grieving, the girl did not realize that all the mourners who attended her mother’s funeral had returned to their respective homes, leaving her with a middle-aged woman who looked at her sadly.

She spoke of her mother, a woman of quiet strength and boundless kindness, whose love had been the bedrock of Elara’s childhood. She recalled the scent of her mother’s lavender gardens, the gentle cadence of her voice as she sang lullabies. Tears streamed down Elara’s face, not the cathartic sobs of overwhelming grief, but a steady, mournful flow, a quiet acknowledgment of what was irrevocably lost. Kael simply stood by, offering a steady arm for her to lean on, his silence more eloquent than any words of comfort. He understood that this was not about forgetting, but about remembering with a love that outshone the pain.