This book is now officially called "Last Breaths" which was under the previous name called "Used to be us...".
I remember reading Him by Pierre A Jeanty and I was truly inspired by it. This inspiration led me to write this book. I hope you all enjo...
The book on the left side table was kept closed with the dust surrounding it as if no one has touched it for a long time. It was strange as the room belonged to her. The cups of coffee weren't making an appearance there either as if caffeine wasn't needed to numb the pain anymore.
It would be 4 am, and I swear I would hear her turning and tossing in her bed. That bed had a bad habit to creak, whenever she wasn't comfortable in it giving away her lie. With the truth living inside of her, she could never drown out those thoughts. And there were days when caffeine was needed just to make herself believe again.
The clock struck 6 with a quiet huff she strode towards the sink. Turning the tap on splashing water all over her face. Nearing were the days of sleepless nights. Long gone were the coffee cups as she was trying to find sleep on these nights. Fazed by her thoughts, she could do nothing but ponder even more.
The clock struck 6, again water all over her face for the second time. Her fingers lingered a little longer on her flesh. Staring at something inhuman in front of her. She would rush downstairs, making herself a cup of coffee. Consuming it in one gulp, she wished for the warmth, but that skin stayed cold. Clouding her mind, were her thoughts. She wished for a blurry vision, but those tears never showed up.
It was 4 am again the bed creaked out louder than before. Questions were flooding, her mind she was drowning in her thoughts. Gone were the gracious nights when she would sip coffee as her mind would find peace on its own. She couldn't find the strength to put an end to those thoughts. She only wished for the clock to strike 6, again. Drowning in work became her only escape.
Memories and numerous questions became more powerful than the amount of caffeine she used to intake.
Nights were there when she would sit under the shower trying to scrub off those hand prints which were only visible to her. With her red eyes, tears didn't show up again as if they knew to shed them for the things that were invisible to this cruel world was a waste. Breathing in the cold water was the only way as people were engaged in saving that lousy one for their benefit who had her skin under those fingertips.
Work was supposed to be an escape, not a trigger to those thoughts in the daytime.For the ones wondering,
Her thoughts were meant to be kept a secret. And they will forever remain a secret.
~From somebody
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
