I am currently walking home and writing this, still stunned by the words that came out of your mouth.
Hey, glad you came.
"Okay."
Okay, let me just get to the point. I'm sorry for what's happening to you. Just please understand why I did that stuff.
"You're not sorry. You're guilty. And I know you. You hate guilt." I turned away to walk home but you grabbed my wrist, causing me to wince.
Please, don't leave. You pleaded. I gave up because I was still scared of what might happen if I left right then.
I am guilty. And I do hate guilt. But I am sorry, truthfully. I just laughed and walked away.
Again, you're not sorry. You never will be.
I know that from experience.
YOU ARE READING
Wish
Historia CortaBook one of the 'Wish' short story series coming soon. ••• "What if I had three wishes? How do you think I would use them? To gain popularity? To have a loving family? To ease the pain? Sorry, but none of those things are what I would use my wishes...