My little pocket book

~The relived memory~

      
           Dim sunlight woke him up from his deep sleep. His eyes opened and tiredly looked around his gloomy, messy room. With great difficulty he got up and made his way to the kitchen.
           In there a young woman was making a meal. "Good morning" she greeted but he didn't respond. He just passed right next to her and took some pills. The woman sighed and returned to her work. he took some food, just enough to survive and went to get dressed.
      
           Gray fabrics loosely hang on his thin frame, like any other day. He put a heavy jacket around himself and went outside.
           Cold winter air hit his pale skin as he walked down the street. Around him were people dressed like him, all hurried and probably cold. Kids' laughter caught his attention. Two small kids ran around the sidewalk. He saw them run on the street in front of a moving car but instead of trying to stop them he just looked away.
     
            His journey lead him to a bridge with a great view of the city. He admired the gray skyline when he noticed a woman, seemingly in her early 20s', sitting on the rails. There was no one on the bridge other than them. He didn't look directly at her but he still saw her in the corner of his vision. In a blink she was no longer there. He knew well what happened but still decided to continue walking.
       
           Her body never hit the water below.
    
           Mindlessly he made his way to the old graveyard, like every other day. His legs took him down, now to him well known path. His eyes looked over the gravestones until he spotted what he was looking for.
     
           He stood in front of a smaller gravestone, on it was a smiling face of the woman he saw in his kitchen earlier that morning. His wife's grave. The woman he loved the most lied under that stone for over five months now. He came to visit her every day. He preferred to talk to her grave rather than the hallucinations.
     
          "The pills don't work" he would complain. "People keep dying in front of my eyes" he couldn't handle it. "Please... give me a sign honey... please I need help" he would plead. He wished for his lover to hug him and tell him it's going to be okay, to comfort him like only she knew.
          
           However it was all in vain, because no matter how hard he tried, the grave stayed painfully silent.

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So this is the first story. what do you think?

This one I wrote as my English homework. I forgot to do it and I wrote this in like 20 minutes.

If you have any feedback let me know :)

Pearson out