The Last Goodbye
When she had decided to follow him home today, she didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this.
She had shadowed him all the way from the school where she spent most of her time these days, through his front door and up the staircase - straight into his familiar domain.
Or, at least, it used to be familiar. The posters of old rock bands and famous snowboarders were gone. The 8 foot bookshelves she had loved had disappeared. The full-sized bed that dominated the room had gone missing, along with the comfy red and black bedclothes she used to wrap herself in. Even the ever-present stench of dirty clothes mixed with his shampoo had found some way to escape the room. It was completely devoid of life, devoid of anything, but - mostly - devoid of him. It was like he had never even lived there.
Standing in the middle of the room, she let her eyes wander, picturing what this room used to be. It was their haven, their hangout, their prison at times, but as long as he was in it, it was perfect.
There wasn't a single piece left of him anymore.
Standing in the doorway, the boy wiped his red puffy eyes. Taking one more look around the room, he closed the door for the last time, a single sob passing through his lips.
She stood in the middle of the room, tears falling uncontrollably. She couldn't take her eyes off the back of the door, or more like what was on the back of the door.
The picture settled itself into its tape frame as the door clicked shut. She recognized the scene, but had thought it was a dream.
She stared at her bandaged face being kissed by what used to be her boyfriend. They were in a hospital and she was laying in a hospital bed. The picture had been taken about a few hours before she had stopped breathing.
The sob finally reached her ears. But what she had mistaken as a sob was actually something much more painful:
" . . . Goodbye Katie."
His last goodbye.
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This was actually supposed to be my response to a prompt from A Creative Writer's Kit from yesterday. The prompt was "write about a bedroom," and of course, my response is once again about a dead person >.< It's depressing, I know, but I kinda like the story. It's got a lot of heart, I think.
Today's official prompt is actually "if only . . ." just like the
linebyline prompt they have up now! T_T I hate this prompt >.< I have no idea what to write about! Oh well, I guess it will just have to be half-assed >___
She had shadowed him all the way from the school where she spent most of her time these days, through his front door and up the staircase - straight into his familiar domain.
Or, at least, it used to be familiar. The posters of old rock bands and famous snowboarders were gone. The 8 foot bookshelves she had loved had disappeared. The full-sized bed that dominated the room had gone missing, along with the comfy red and black bedclothes she used to wrap herself in. Even the ever-present stench of dirty clothes mixed with his shampoo had found some way to escape the room. It was completely devoid of life, devoid of anything, but - mostly - devoid of him. It was like he had never even lived there.
Standing in the middle of the room, she let her eyes wander, picturing what this room used to be. It was their haven, their hangout, their prison at times, but as long as he was in it, it was perfect.
There wasn't a single piece left of him anymore.
Standing in the doorway, the boy wiped his red puffy eyes. Taking one more look around the room, he closed the door for the last time, a single sob passing through his lips.
She stood in the middle of the room, tears falling uncontrollably. She couldn't take her eyes off the back of the door, or more like what was on the back of the door.
The picture settled itself into its tape frame as the door clicked shut. She recognized the scene, but had thought it was a dream.
She stared at her bandaged face being kissed by what used to be her boyfriend. They were in a hospital and she was laying in a hospital bed. The picture had been taken about a few hours before she had stopped breathing.
The sob finally reached her ears. But what she had mistaken as a sob was actually something much more painful:
" . . . Goodbye Katie."
His last goodbye.
--------------
This was actually supposed to be my response to a prompt from A Creative Writer's Kit from yesterday. The prompt was "write about a bedroom," and of course, my response is once again about a dead person >.< It's depressing, I know, but I kinda like the story. It's got a lot of heart, I think.
Today's official prompt is actually "if only . . ." just like the
linebyline prompt they have up now! T_T I hate this prompt >.< I have no idea what to write about! Oh well, I guess it will just have to be half-assed >___