Waiting For The Train That Never Comes
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- Parts 2
"He's dead and I'm not. I get to live the rest of my life but he doesn't. It's all my fault that he's dead. It's all my fault that no one will ever see that smile ever again,"
The paragraph was scrawled on the crisp pages of my diary. My eyes flickered from my phone, back to the page, my phone, the page. The date at the top read 'Friday 13th October, 2013'.
It didn't add up. This wasn't possible.
'Hey Leyla, I love you. Always remember that' - Sent 8/3/15, 7:44 pm.
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