Jun 2016
My phone rings at two in the morning, it can only be one person.
I listen to her newest trouble with him and hear her sobs in my ear.
Only when the sun stung her skin would her tears dry this day.
She would wait for him, listening to him lie to her and she would cry to me about his mistrust.
She never broke that cycle, though she was a broken heart.
The next night doesn't change, she cries about his newest issue and how she wishes she could leave him. But she's too close to him to see the possibility of even her own words.
"Leave him", I said, "he doesn't deserve you. Any man would rather be dead than play with your heart." I told her. But she wasn't hearing it.
I was tired of hearing her sob stories, I wanted her to do something to get out of this. No more anger, no more crying, no more sorrow, only happiness.
I wanted her to see a life without him.
But she didn't see that vision, so I had to let her go. But I couldn't, I would always stay her shoulder to cry on and she knew it. So the cycle continued.
But now it's five in the morning and no call....
I take it as a sign of happiness and let it alone.
Now its seven and I'm confused, she would've called by now at least to wish me a good morning.
it's nine at night and I call again, wanting to hear her voice again, but she doesn't pick up.
I call again, in a panic, she would never reject my call. I call again and again until it's nearly eleven PM and she still doesn't pick up.
My phone dings with the notification of a facetime request. I pick up and just stare at her.
Eyes blood shot
dried lines of tears on her cheeks
and her mouth pursed in a way to show she was about to cry again.
She doesn't look at the screen, she only puts her head down and lets out a deep emotion felt sigh before speaking.
"I love you too much not to have you here at this time. I'm sorry, please forgive me." She says.
What are you talking about? what's the problem, why arent you picking up the phone? All these questions and she doesn't answer one. She only puts the phone down and levels it so I can see her. A gun is on her bed now, she picks it up and raises it to her head. I'm screaming now. I'm trying to talk her out of it but she cries and pulls the trigger in front of me.
I jolt up in shock. My fear taking hold as my eyes pour water and I can do nothing but yell and cry.
It's six in the morning, police find her body on the floor of her apartment with all evidence pointing to her suicide.
She was broken. Her mind not her own and her love to one who played her one too many times, she became a killer.
They found her, but what they hadn't known was that she had killed another that night.
What they didn't know is that she was heartbroken in every possible way and that her hunger for revenge grew everytime she saw his face.
What they didn't know was that she was too weak.
What they didn't know was that she couldn't survive the broken years.
I listen to her newest trouble with him and hear her sobs in my ear.
Only when the sun stung her skin would her tears dry this day.
She would wait for him, listening to him lie to her and she would cry to me about his mistrust.
She never broke that cycle, though she was a broken heart.
The next night doesn't change, she cries about his newest issue and how she wishes she could leave him. But she's too close to him to see the possibility of even her own words.
"Leave him", I said, "he doesn't deserve you. Any man would rather be dead than play with your heart." I told her. But she wasn't hearing it.
I was tired of hearing her sob stories, I wanted her to do something to get out of this. No more anger, no more crying, no more sorrow, only happiness.
I wanted her to see a life without him.
But she didn't see that vision, so I had to let her go. But I couldn't, I would always stay her shoulder to cry on and she knew it. So the cycle continued.
But now it's five in the morning and no call....
I take it as a sign of happiness and let it alone.
Now its seven and I'm confused, she would've called by now at least to wish me a good morning.
it's nine at night and I call again, wanting to hear her voice again, but she doesn't pick up.
I call again, in a panic, she would never reject my call. I call again and again until it's nearly eleven PM and she still doesn't pick up.
My phone dings with the notification of a facetime request. I pick up and just stare at her.
Eyes blood shot
dried lines of tears on her cheeks
and her mouth pursed in a way to show she was about to cry again.
She doesn't look at the screen, she only puts her head down and lets out a deep emotion felt sigh before speaking.
"I love you too much not to have you here at this time. I'm sorry, please forgive me." She says.
What are you talking about? what's the problem, why arent you picking up the phone? All these questions and she doesn't answer one. She only puts the phone down and levels it so I can see her. A gun is on her bed now, she picks it up and raises it to her head. I'm screaming now. I'm trying to talk her out of it but she cries and pulls the trigger in front of me.
I jolt up in shock. My fear taking hold as my eyes pour water and I can do nothing but yell and cry.
It's six in the morning, police find her body on the floor of her apartment with all evidence pointing to her suicide.
She was broken. Her mind not her own and her love to one who played her one too many times, she became a killer.
They found her, but what they hadn't known was that she had killed another that night.
What they didn't know is that she was heartbroken in every possible way and that her hunger for revenge grew everytime she saw his face.
What they didn't know was that she was too weak.
What they didn't know was that she couldn't survive the broken years.
