The Rain On Monday

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

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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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