Plates crashed against the wood floor. The sounds of a fight filled the air for the third time this week. Screaming, crying, the exchange of harsh hateful words were everywhere. My hazel eyes were teared up and filled with disgust. Not disgust of him, but disgust of myself. This was my fault again. It was always my fault.
His chestnut hair was plastered to his face. I could see the beads of sweat forming on his ivory skin. His breathing was heavy and I could see the anxiety about to take hold of his consciousness. I could see the signs. The way he shook and clenched his fists. He tried to avoid eye contact anyways he could. He had nothing to hide but everything to fear. One mistake and he knows I would loose my shit.
He looked up at me. "Sushi," he said, " I'm sorry."
His body feel to the ground. The anxiety had taken over.
"This is my fault!" I thought. I rushed to his side, his body was limp on the floor. His chest lifted and feel and unequal intervals as I cradled him in my arms. What was I to do? I couldn't just leave him there. I stayed with him. "Just a bit longer," I promised myself.
YOU ARE READING
Heartless
RandomA young girl struggling to figure out how she will say goodbye to one she loves. I'm sorry I wasted your time if it sucks.
