Sad Eyes (Republished)

xerophthalmia

xerophthalmia:

Dryness and soreness of the eyes.

Song; broken by lighthouse

day twenty four; write a scene based off of a song.

...

Matthew lifted his weak body from the couch, instantly staring at the broken clock that strangely brought him comfort. Throughout the day, he would stare at the motionless hands that would stay at the same time. 9:49pm.

The clock somehow helps him sleep at night, though he will never know the exact time. He didn't want to if she wasn't here spending it with him.

He sighed once again, as he took his eyes away for a quick moment.

"Maybe it can stop tomorrow," he mumbled to himself. "From stealing my time."

Matthew rose up from the couch to retrieve his sketch pad, and plopped back onto the same spot, waiting for an idea to pop in his mind.

He was doubtful of most of his thoughts, like his hope or his sanity.

He was damaged at it's best.

If only Emma were here to see him, once more. He felt as if her presence was near him like she stated in her last letter, she must've figured out he was damaged.

Each day, Matthew would somehow fall apart even more, maybe this is what the verge of death feels like, barely breathing.

The boy instantly grasped his chest that contained a broken heart filled with pain as each beat past, deep within.

He turned his head to the quoted picture on the wall Emma had decorated before she left, "through the pain, there is healing."

He couldn't bare himself to stare at the picture any longer, so he left to the bedroom. Only to notice her name, everywhere. A picture of the two on his nightstand instantly caught his attention. They had asked a random stranger to take it, as they visited the zoo. In the photograph, Emma was looking straight towards the photo, smiling and he blonde hair curled perfectly, but Matthew was smiling at the beautiful girl next to him, as his arm was wrapped around her shoulder.

Matthew andEmma

4/9

Her name meant so much to him, emotionally.

In a twisted way, through all of his depressing moments, he somehow barely held onto her memory as an image, but he couldn't forget a single detail of all the memories they made. She really got into his head, though he really did try to stay guarded, but once she had worked her way into his life, he became an open book.

Matthew still had the sketching pad clutched in his hands, so he grabbed a pencil of the nightstand next to the picture, and began to draw an eye.

He drew his eye, with a reflection of Emma deep within the irises. She was his purpose, and now even the slightest thing such as his eyes are attempting to look for another lively purpose.

"Shit!" He yelled as the pencil led broke.

Matthew dug through the drawer again, not in search for another pencil, but for her letters.

He began to re-read all of them, starting from the very beginning.

As he read, he spoke heavily under his breath. "You said I would be okay, and I'm hanging onto the words you said, Emma. Please show me a sign!" Matthew weeped.

After a few hours of silent reading, the sky became dark to which he sighed as he put away the letters.

Matthew finally did something he wouldn't normally do, he began to write, just as Emma had to bring her closure. He was in need of closure.

✎✐✎✐✎✐

Emma,

Why would you leave me so suddenly? I love you.

Come back for me.

You left me here alone.

I may have lost my way, but I haven't forgotten my way home.

Home is when I'm with you,

I can feel you around me.

Does this mean your dead?

I love you, and one day I wanted you to be the mother of my children.

Please answer me.

Love,
Matthew

✎✐✎✐✎✐

And with that messy peace of paper stained with tears, he gently attempted to fold the paper, and set it on top of her letters, as if he were saving it for later. His eyes felt sore and dry from all his crying, just like xerophthalmia.

You know the feeling when you can feel someone is dead, but don't have any confirmation? That's exactly how desperate Matthew felt.

"For her burial, possibly," His subconscious commented.