Ticking

One Hour

One Hour

I look at the clock. One more hour before my break.

I decide I couldn't wait for that long. I got off my chair, getting off it with a squeak of protest. I climb up to the rooftop swiftly; it was a daily routine for me nowadays. I held a notebook and a pen between my fingers; I sit on the ground in the middle of the roof. The sun was setting already, I smile and grin at the beauty of the sunset. I flip open my notebook and scrawl down lyrics that came to my mind as I stare at the sunset near the horizon.

I write a song on the blank paper in front of me, the words filling up the page like it was a cup of water.

Feeling inspirational I see? I hear your sudden cheeky voice ringing out behind me.

What is wrong with feeling inspired? I mock you, capping my pen shut, standing up.

You ignored me for a moment, staring ahead at the horizon.

I thought you usually come later? I question you, following the direction of your stare to look at the sunset. I take out my phone, determined to capture this beautiful sunset. The sky above us had hints of purple and salmon pink. My lips stretch out into a large smile.

It is already around the time I usually come. You answer, raising your eyebrows at my cluelessness. You've been here for an hour already.

One hour.

In that one hour I wrote my heart out and completed one song.

In an hour there were many things one could do. I guess what I would choose to do is song writing.

Oh, I didn't realize, I grinned at you. You throw me a confused look.

And suddenly in two days you miraculously become an unnaturally happy person after attempting to suicide, you point out bluntly, turning back to face the sunset. I scowl at your bluntness, silently contemplating scolding you.

Hey, being saved from suicide does wonders you know, I laugh joyously.

At least I know I don't have to save you from suicide again, you joke along with me.

I plop back down to continue my song writing.

I'm glad I saved you, you know, you say, not looking at me.

Why are you glad? I frown, chewing on the tip of my pen as I struggle to think of rhyming words.

Because you deserved to learn the meaning of life. I had a gut feeling you are going to go far in life, you reply.

I smile as I continue my song writing. I was thankful to you for saving me.