Prompt 189- Alone
The metal bench I sat on was cold, but not as cold as my heart. I watched him from afar everyday. Everyday he would walk from his little cottage to the local shop; he would then buy the daily newspaper and a carton of milk before talking to the same man, on the same street corner, and often for the same stretch of time.
I would wait for him to go around the corner before following; after all you have to be careful when engaging in activities that could be considered creepy. I stood at the head of the path, watching his retreating back. He was on his way back home, back home to that little ginger rat, back home to the one thing that kept us apart, kept me alone.
It was the same routine everyday. After watching him for 20 minutes I would head home, my house was nothing like his. I lived in a little apartment with broken windows and chipped walls. Green bottles littered the once cream carpet, now stained with a mixture of red and alcoholic poison.
The mirror in the hallway was cracked and hanging at an odd angle. I stopped in front of it; my face was pale with my eyes sunken back into my head, a grey mist clouded my once bright blue eyes. The only emotion my face ever showed was pain, a pain that only my eyes ever betrayed.
My fist connected with the mirror as the tears began to flow down my cheeks. This happens everyday, I would come back from my daily trip before breaking down and resorting to alcohol. I know I should stop watching him, that I was hurting myself with what could never be.
The tears continued to roll down my cheeks as I stumbled into the kitchen, reaching for the nearest green bottle with my red streaked hand. I must have cut it when I hit the mirror. I spent the next 3 hours downing bottle after bottle of poorly concealed poison. Not stopping until all colours blurred into a comforting grey and I could feel his strong arms looped around me, keeping me safe.