Weeping Willow

I'm just a shadow wandering through the halls, preparing meals, waiting for Vincent to return from his work and have dinner with me for once. I am forgotten. My birthday, our anniversary, my needs, my likes or dislikes. They're all forgotten. I am forgotten..

I will wish that he will call my name softly, softer than ever. I am a fool for wishing, for hoping, for even imagining it.

The door of our house clicked open around midnight. I just stood there, motionless and staring into his soul with grief invading my eyes. He took off his shoes, handed me his coat, and unbuttoned his white shirt.

He forgot. Again.

The room was dim, the tiniest bit of hope wasn't in sight. My fingers clutched onto a knife like a lifeline.

By Katherrine.
Started on February 2nd.
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