2AM Thoughts

His Death

"Sweetheart, he never made it through the night. He wasn't stable enough to hold on. He's gone. Honey, he's dead." Her parents informed the blonde female sat on the soft couch.

They continued to explain his condition, funeral plans, etc. but all she could hear was his melodic voice speaking in her ears.

Not being able to handle the sharp jabbing in her chest, she jumped and ran through the front door, barefoot and all.

The voice wouldn't stop.

She kept running because she didn't know what else to do.

Through the woods, across a pond, over a hill, she lied down.

She lied down and she slept.

She slept for a whole day before the police eventually found her and brought her home.

The last words she spoke was to him, himself.

"Goodbye. See you tomorrow."

But she never did see him tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he was in a casket.

She became mute after that.

She wanted the last words she ever said to be to him.

It's not like she saw a point in speaking anyways.

The one thing that mattered in her life was gone, forever.

She still went to school, though it was no choice of her own.

Sitting in the back of the class.

Eating in the bathroom stalls.

Her only friend was the continuous voice belong to the deceased, in her head.

She never did recover from his death.

It hit her worse than anyone else.

But no one else truly knew him like her.

They said they did, but they didn't.

She grew up alone.

After graduation, she was put in a mental facility.

She had gone, what most could call, crazy.

All because of a crappy drunk driver.