Sitting silently,
He sits and stares at his phone,
Shifting slightly,
He doesn't look up from his phone,
Coughing quietly,
He ignores me and looks at his phone,
A little louder,
He stays there slowly reading his phone,
Groaning with the pain,
He still remains there silently checking his phone,
Starting to bleed,
He raises an eyebrow at the screen of his phone that he studies so intently.
Feeling faint,
He sighs and looks at the clock before looking back down at the obviously intriguing phone in his hand.
Skin pale, vision blurred,
He chuckles to himself and takes a sip from the half-empty cup of tea at his side and scrolls with a single finger on the screen of his phone.
My voice is weak as I call out,
"Dad..."
For the last time the blade glides over my wrist.
He stares at his phone.