Grieving Gumball Novels & Stories

Zaika's pov Gallum had been weak and it bothered me that he would simply sacrifice himself so callously. I felt angry with myself for being hurt by my backstabbing best friend's sudden death. I had won the crown yet wasn't thrilled. Tucking the document in the inside of my shirt I glanced around. Seeing all the chaos Gallum had caused by his explosive death was heartbreaking. Vossler and Bryce seemed unaware of the devastation going on around them until I shouted at them both to look around. Taking their eyes off the stacks of bills they held they glanced around. Both their eyes bulged and mouths fell.

She slumped to the floor, shaking her head violently as if the motion could undo the truth, but it didn’t, no matter how many times she prayed it away. A wail tore from her throat into the silent hallway. Grief split her open. At that moment, she was nothing but a mother who had just lost her child. Not a Bellington. Not a Dawson. Just a hollow shell. People passed by. A few glanced over. No one stopped. No one could touch the raw pain pouring out of her like blood from a wound. Gaby was gone. Her baby. His soft giggle, his tiny hand clutching hers in sleep, his voice shouting, “Mommy! Mummy!” all over the house was gone. All gone.

"Mr. Riverson, I'm so sorry for your loss." It had happened just moments ago. I squeezed my eyes shut. The grief was so deep that it felt hollow. I couldn't even cry. Callum's hands and feet were ice-cold. No matter how I tried to warm them, they wouldn't heat up. I moved like a zombie, handling the paperwork, getting the death certificate, and seeing Callum one last time.

And nothing would ever be the same again. The rain had turned the cemetery grounds into a muddy mess, but no one cared. Underneath the sea of black umbrellas, Gemini stood frozen, her fingers digging into Simon’s hand as she watched them lower her grandmother’s casket into the earth. Her heart clenched so tightly she thought she would collapse. She had lost her mother years ago. Now, she was losing her grandmother too. Her body trembled, a mixture of grief and exhaustion, but she refused to cry anymore. Because if she started, she wouldn’t stop.

The air was heavy with the gravity of mourning, every inhalation a struggle, every pounding heartbeat loud within them. Candy, small and vulnerable in her grief, was huddled in Fiona's embrace. Her small fists were dug deep into the fold of her mother's dress, her body convulsing with her tears. She had cried enough, but it seemed that she would never run out of tears. Even with the warmth of Fiona's loving arms around her, she felt a void deep within. "Mommy." Candy cried, her voice a jagged whisper. "Where is my mom? Why isn't she returning?"

"Yeah, I get it. Grief can make you feel a million things at once." Hearing Edmund talk about grief was like listening to McDonald's talking about Barbie dolls. It just didn't mix. People like Edmund knew next to nothing about grief. The whole world revolves around them, at least in their heads. If anybody died, it didn't matter to them. So, how the hell could he relate to her own grief? Or was that pity speaking?

A few days later, she heard that her new heart had come from Bianca and that Gali had died upon his arrival. Gaby has difficulty taking medication due to extreme sadness, stress, and depression. She blames herself for her brother’s and cousin’s death. She later accepted that an accident occurred and that Gali and Bianca did not only die in that accident, but many others were also Gali and Bianca die in that accident, but many others also were pregnant, had children, and were about the same age.

Gone before any of it could become real. I lowered my forehead gently against hers again. “I’m grieving too,” I admitted quietly. Her expression softened through the tears. “I know.” “But if you disappear into guilt…” I swallowed hard. “I’ll lose you even if your heart keeps beating.” The words settled heavily between us. Because grief can take people without killing them physically. I knew that now. Elara looked at me for a long moment. Then whispered softly: “You sound different.” A weak laugh escaped me. “That’s because I almost lost you.”

A burial was going to be held, and the air was thick with grief and sorrow. The entire pack had gathered, their heads bowed, the weight of the loss heavy on everyone’s shoulders. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, Caleb had been here, alive and laughing, his presence as strong as ever. Now, all that remained was the severed arm we had found beneath the rubble.

“If you claim you don’t have anything to say, you can leave. I would rather not look at you right now.” “I would rather not look at you, ever,” he said coldly. “Being with you only brought bad things to me. I got kidnapped, and almost got killed. Tiffany tried to help you, but she lost her life in the process. Kelvin died carrying you in his arms. Damn.. Mr. Gordon was right. You are a cancer:” Mrs. Chesterfeild told me when I was in middle school that grief makes people say mean things. But as I stared at Trevor Coleman in my room, calling me a cancer. I heard and felt my heart shatter.