three simple words

This is a story of a young man racked with grief after making the solemn journey in to the unknown of death and back losing the girl he tried so hard to save in a watery grave.

His table is jammed up against the door all the pictures facing down averting their eyes to the horror that is going to happen in this tomb of a room. A boy sits on his bed leaning against the wall reading a piece of papers as tears slide silently down his pale cheeks. Images of pain and sorrow fill his head as much as they fill the walls that surround him. He reaches for the phone and dials in a number, one he has called often when he got like this, only it was different now, his last calls were for help, today he calls to say thank you and goodbye, for tonight his life will leave the torturous Tartarus for the gentle Elysium fields he craves for.

‘Hello,’

‘I want to thank you for everything you have done for me, and I want to say goodbye as well,’

The phone hangs up and another thought runs through the clustered chaos of his head

‘She won’t miss me. No one will miss me,’

The note he spent time writing, ten pages of apologies goodbyes and forgive me, rest on his table next to a bottle of Paracetamol, a shaking hand grasps the bottle and pops the top off it, it all looks like something he is watching through a screen, like the pills are made of sugar and that he won’t die. Shake a few out, powdery and white, the grains soak up on his hand as sweat and fear pour from his pores as if his body knows what will happen and tries desperately to stop.

A bang rings through the house and a woman screams his name, feet thunder up the stairs as his hand glides to his mouth slowly but surely he will die tonight. As his hand reaches his chin the door rattles in its frame and his name is screamed out again

‘Please don’t do this, I beg of you don’t do this there is still hope,’

‘I am sorry,’

‘Don’t say that you are not going to die on me,’

‘Goodbye,’

‘I love you,’

The pills roll to his lip as thundering blows hit the door cracking it down the centre. Finally it gives and an angel clambers of the table, her brunette hair sweeping the surface of the clutter, he hazel eyes puffy and her beautiful face stained with tears

‘Don’t you realise I love you and have loved you from day one,’

A life with out hope or love, devoid of the simplest pleasures after going on a round trip in the valley of death now stands strong and tall, a monument to the power of three simple words, three simple yet powerful words.