The Scars That Remain…
His body was feeling limp and he wanted to lie down, close his eyes. He wanted to hang up the phone, and just bathe in total silence. Fear gripped the phone tightly but he just wanted to let go. He could hear her sobs at the other end of the line. She was screaming between the tears. He could picture her face now. A puffy, red mass with tears streaming down.
Why did she blame me for something I didn’t do? He thought. Why is it always like this? He didn’t know what to say so he just sat there listening. Anger welled inside of him as he realized that he didn’t deserve any of this but he just couldn’t ignore the overriding feeling of guilt as well. He opened his mouth to say something, but his mind couldn’t communicate the words to his lips. And he just sat there. In silence.
I HATE YOU!
He wanted to tell her he hates her too.
She always blamed him for everything. He hated it. She told him she wants to cut herself. He still didn’t utter a word. He felt like his silence was daring her to go ahead. She said she has a knife in her hands and she just wants to slit her arms. DON’T. He found the words. But did he really mean it? She told him she’s sick of life. She wants to go. She said she’s going. Hate and Fear filled his head and his whole body. He felt nauseous. He didn’t know whether she was bluffing or telling the truth. So he sat in silence again.
And then.. she did it. He heard a loud gasp. She screamed. This time in agony. She started sobbing even more. Look what you made me do, look what you made me do. She blamed him through the sobs. For a moment he felt free. The agonizing hate coursing through his veins felt refreshing and beautiful. He wanted her to cut herself more. This is what she gets for doing what she does to me. The raging thoughts in his head seemed to calm him. The image of blood dripping down her arm felt like a fabulous masterpiece in his head.
He came back to his senses, and tried to soothe her, she was still crying in pain. He wanted to go to her, but he couldn’t. He told her to put some medicine to heal herself. He could feel the disgust in her shallowed breathing. It mirrored his own disgust. She said it was his fault again. She said she never wants to see him. She told him that he was the worst thing that happened to her. And the line went dead. He wished she did too.