broken crayons

maroon

there were two people in the other car. the doctor told me later that day.

"the daughter was driving. she didn't make it. but the mother survived..." He tailed off, sinking into silence.

and when i got to her room, i understood why.

she was covered in bandages all over her head.
the stains on the them were turning into a deep maroon.

and as she lay there motionless, she seemed so innocent, and somehow it felt like silence before the storm.

or maybe after the storm.
how could i tell?

and i realized what i had done.
two angels lost their wings just because an ever ungrateful daughter took it too long to realise something.

two people died,
but four lost their lives:
the death of two daughters,
and two mothers.

i spent two days in that room.
even i don't know why. sitting in the waiting room seemed pointless, now that i had nothing left in this world i could wait for.

i had obviously lost that job, not that i cared any longer, so i couldn't go to town.

and i didn't, couldn't, wouldn't go home. not just yet.

i asked the doctor about the mother. he said she'd hurt her head so hard to ever remember anything of her past. she still needs to visit for regular check-ups, but the hospital can't keep her.
no relatives in the country, not any longer.
too weak to live on her own.
she needed someone.
any one.