Recollection of the awful moments of loss in two novels by Stephen King.
When I was in junior high, I sat up reading Stephen King's book Cujo, and remember being brought to watershed tears as I read the part about the little boy's death. For a moment, I was transported into the mind of the mother, feeling panic rising in my throat. Again, when I read King's book Pet Semetary, when the little boy ran into the road and was hit by a truck and killed, I was for an awful moment, the father , desperately reaching out to grab the little boy, and grabbing air instead, unable to stop the inevitable. I think at that age, I craved those moments, and thus was attracted to King's awful stories. As an adult now, and a parent, I find I cannot watch or read stories like that anymore.