Ad blocker interference detected!
Wikia is a free-to-use site that makes money from advertising. We have a modified experience for viewers using ad blockers
Wikia is not accessible if you’ve made further modifications. Remove the custom ad blocker rule(s) and the page will load as expected.
Last Saturday was the best day of my life, indisputably. The afternoon was in a thick storm of confetti. The empty air was a chorus of bells, organs and crowds cheering and hollering in excitement. Our visions were half-blinded by the flashing of cameras around us. But most of all, I remembered your smile and the sweet kiss upon my lips; a symbol that of newlyweds.
But, as fate would have it, not all good things come to pass. Only a few days later, I remembered rushing you to the hospital. I remembered the room number being 235, inscribed on the wooden door. I remember those final words you said to me before you left me forever, from your bed as I held your hand tightly in my own. I remembered those final words you requested to me, imprinted, haunting my head.
“Please sing me one more song.”
And I did.
Today is February 14th. Last Saturday felt so long ago, as if it was from a different time. For here I sit, with only absence accompanying me, in this dim room. Once, I swore to the Lord above that I would love you until the rivers would run dry. Now, I only wish those same currents would pull me under to drown me as it catches my weight. How I wish we had never met, how I am sorry you were ever born if life were to fall so short.
It took a lot of mental power, breaking away from this flurry of thoughts, but I went out on a stroll from the countryside to the town at night, spending the little money that I had left.
It was until after a quick trip to the pharmacy for medication that I returned back to our home, which I had not stepped foot in after a few evenings of gambling to cope with my loss of you. I expected to be embraced in your loving arms, dear wife, surrounded by our family that shall now never be. I slowly opened the door to our dim living room, only to be greeted by the deafening silence of nothingness. With a heavy sigh, I took a seat over by the fireplace, a gray bottle of morphine in my hands. At this point, I paused and looked the bottle over. I slowly started to twist the cap off, setting it aside. I gazed at the petite, white tablets inside before spilling them over into my palm, inspecting each of them before picking a lone one in my other.
One, two, three pills traveled down my throat, with the rest of the bottle to follow for good measure. I watched as the flames only became brighter, and its warmth slowly started to die; fade into coldness. My hollow breathing started to slow the more pills were swallowed. My now tired eyes struggled to stay open as I slowly took a seat by the fire place, my life slowly fading away. I looked around the house – our house – one last time before I started to fall asleep.
Goodnight, Irene. I’ll see you in my dreams.
Written by FlakyPorcupine