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The Day He Left
ELLIS REED
I can define regret in two terms: a condescending asshole that reminds me of everything I shouldn't have done, and also a feeling much worse than guilt. I mean, come on. Even guilt gives me some slack. Regret doesn't roll that way, apparently.
Regret feeds on your memories. It digs through your past and once it finds the one it's looking for, it will rub it in your face— much like an internal 'I told you so,' machine.
To put it simply, regret is horrible.
-
Have you ever felt like you forgot something and thought that it's probably nothing?
I think I'm having those thoughts.
I woke up today with a pounding headache and a stomach that growled in hunger.
Oops, I guess I forgot to eat the hospital food last night.
When I looked to my left I saw Smith writing on the clipboard-like folders of the hospital and behind him was a new set of food completely different from last night. I think it's steamed fish.
I asked Smith to hand me the tray and he did. He handed me the tray of food which consisted an odd looking concoction, a staple of rice, and a fruit.
Gross, it's healthy.
While I chewed the bland tasting food, I felt a nagging sensation within me— as if I'm forgetting something important.
Oh God.
"Smith, what time is it?"
"10:45 in the morning, why?" Oh shit. This is not good. Holy crap, I'm fucked. I pushed the tray away and stood up with a great speed. It rendered me lightheaded and partly blind for a moment but I didn't care. I need to see Andy.
"Woah- hey! Where are you going?" He was startled as I moved frantically around him searching for my flip-flops. Screw it, my feet will do.
"I'm going to say goodbye to Andy, where else would I go?"
"Andy—" I didn't hear what he said next. The only thing I heard was the slapping of my bare feet on the cold concrete tiles.
When I arrived to my destination, everything was barren. The bed was completely smooth- no crease on the sheets and no visible dents on the pillow. The numerous 'get well soon' cards and nearly deflated balloons that once occupied the tables were also missing. Even the television was lifeless like the rest of the room. It was official.
He's gone.
-And I didn't get to say goodbye. Ellis, you are such a fucking idiot. You can't even wake up on time. Now, you might never see him again- all because you overslept.
Smith was still in my room. On my bed, he sat there with a knowing expression on his face. I joined him on the bed and sighed. What's the point in crying? He's gone and I didn't get to say goodbye. Get over it.
"He went here, you know." Smith's voice was soft as if he was talking to a toddler in hysterics. "He told me he didn't want to wake you because you look so peaceful-" Bull. I look like a distressed monster when I sleep. "-He also mentioned of seeing you soon." Yeah right, I doubt that.
