NEW: Introducing Tap. Addictive chat stories for your 📲 Now in 10 languages
DOWNLOAD NOW!

Tears and Rain

117 2 0
  • Dedicated to Lynn Marie Gallagher

Tears and Rain

Carol Pixie Brearley

3 January 2013

The rain is coming down outside my window, mirroring the tears on my face. It has been nineteen years since you were taken from this world, but it feels like it was just yesterday.

     I put my hand on the window. It is cold, just as I feel inside. I press my cheek against the glass and my tears follow the curve of my cheek and flow down the glass.

Moving away I know I need to live on, but it is so hard when your heart is wracked with guilt and pain, so slowly I move across my small apartment to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of cold coffee.

Standing at the counter I wonder what might have been. What if I had been with you that night, would it have been different? Would you be alive, or would I be dead as well.

Shaking my head I try to push away these thoughts, not now. Not again.

There is a knock at the door, I look up but I stay silent. I do not want to talk with anyone today; it is the anniversary of your death. I just want to be alone.

The person at the door knocks again and calls my name, he knows I am home. I still ignore the door and walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I turn the water on to drown out the noise and will him to go away.

Since the water is running, I undress and step into the shower. My skin turns red from the heat, but I do not notice it.

I put my face into the water and feel the heat on my cheeks.  The water mingles with my tears, my heart screams in pain.

You were always there for me, whenever I needed you all I had to do was call.  The one time you needed me I was gone.

Turning I crank up the heat, the water scalding my skin as it flows down my back and I sit.  Wrapping my arms around my folded legs and hiding my face between my knees.

Did you call to me as you were laying there, your life slowly slipping away? 

I lift my head and look at my wrist. There is a razor blade sitting on the edge of the tub and I start to reach for it.

I could have saved you, I know it.

Holding the blade tightly in my left hand I press the tip into my skin, tracing the blue line down my arm toward my wrist.

The blood flows quickly and I set the blade back on the ledge of the tub before lying down and allowing the darkness to come.

I will see you soon my dearest friend.  I love you.

Tears and RainRead this story for FREE!