The Rain On Monday

Written words are the only thing my mind can find ease in.


26. Apology

It’s December 21st and the clouds look dark and uncertain.

It is near silent in my room and I can hear the clock ticking loudly when my mobile vibrates numerous times.

I’m blind to realise that you were in contention with yourself.

Finally, with annoyance, I reach for my mobile and notice that through the course of four hours, you’ve called fifty-three times.

I stare at the number, helpless – almost hopeless, until my sight turns black.

Awoken by the stifling heat of the moist air around me, I hear the muffled noises of people clamouring downstairs.

I come to it and remember the night before; how you called fifty-three times, and you needed me, but I wasn’t there.

To this day, it haunts me – that number.

The utter thought of how helpless and susceptible to your thoughts you were.

It was somewhat my fault, and I cant even apologise to you, because on that chilling night, you died.

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