Broken Pieces and Beautiful Pain

Guilt

~Ghost P.O.V.~

Now he slept so peacefully on his own bed. He had managed to crawl up there after several unsuccessful tries. His breathing was finally even, until he hit his ribs on his bed or with his own arm. He would lay there and gasp for air like a fish out of water.

I stare at him, ' I should've been there to stop that son-of-a-bitch! He's his fucking father! How could he do that to his only son?! I shouldn't have let this go on like this for this long in the first place... I shouldn't have listened to him. I can't just stand here and watch him tear my love apart. Literally.'

His eyes fluttered open as sweat trickled down his face in perfect clear beads. He looked around the room before trying to sit up in his bed. Wincing as his left hand flew across his ribs that flamed like scolding iron.

He sat there on his bed leaning against the dark wall next to her window, looking around his room. He couldn't see me, I knew he couldn't. I won't allow him to see me. It would only hurt him too much, especially when it was my time to leave. Somehow, he always manages to find me. He said once, that he could feel my presence if I was near him or in the same room.

"Please, stop hiding from me. I know you're here, I feel you. Sometimes I feel like I am going crazy when I say that, you know? And I wonder if I'm just talking to thin air-" I looked away, but as soon as I did, he stopped talking. After a few minutes, he spoke again.

"It's not your fault, you have no reason to feel guilty," His brow creased, "I was born blind, you had nothing to do with that. I mess things up, not you. It is never your fault, I promise." he hoarsely whispered as he laid back down, passing out from the engulfing pain.