Sunday, 17 April 2011

Paperbag Writer. Day Seventeen

They visit me. Mum, dad, sister and my friends. My best friend visits me a lot, it’s just that there was nothing to mention, all the same and like by a slow reaction the other would follow maybe because Madison, my best friend, elbowed them or threw a baseball into their heads, hitting their empty heads.

How cruel of me.

Madison walked in, again, a basketball in his hand causing me ask how come he headed in with one.

He said I looked like hell.

Thank you :)

He thought I was in a good mood, until he saw my sour face and the never healing bruises under my left eye. I said to myself when they start to heal, I'll get out, but they just get worse, as if they deepen. He stared at them in shock, as if he hadn’t seen them before. I shrugged annoyed, but then he switched the topic. Madison sat in the chair, wiggling his feet as he mumbled into his finger about school, trying not to look at me. I thought that he might cry and go hysterical like everybody would.

But he didn’t.

He headed out and left the door unlocked for me to hear his sobs.

The hurt should hear how the others grief.

Day Eighteen

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