"so, you used music to cope with the beatings?"
"yes."
"that's smart."
"you aren't going to say anything about Blake?"
"no."
"why?"
"i'm scared."
"of what?"
"i talked to him. i sat next to him. I went to school with him."
"and?"
"and i didn't notice a single thing was wrong. i could have helped, but i was so blinded, that i couldn't see all of the pain and crap he was going through."
"you couldn't have helped. you couldn't have known. don't place the fault of his death upon yourself."
"but i could have called the cops, or talked him out of it. instead, i flipped him off."
"let me rephrase that, don't you dare make his death about you. this was, and is, bigger than you. you may be at the center of my universe, but you aren't at the center of everyone else's."
Then he hangs up.
∆
YOU ARE READING
∆ Will You Call? ∆
Short Story((This is really crappy and stupid but I'm too sentimental to take it down)) ∆ "Will you call?" "Yes." "Do you promise?" "No." ∆
