The morning was horrible in all aspects, the rain drummed on the window like an annoying thumping on the inside of his head, the cold he got from the trip yesterday seemed to be ten times worse. The usual sun rays that shone through the window, highlighting his room in a light blue was bitterly missed and the temperature was so bloody cold that it felt like he was in the Antarctic. So he knew what the rest of the day was going to be like.
He shuffled (in a state of sleep) to the bathroom door and pushed the panel open. The unexpected slam against the shower wall made him jump. It was always the same, it was more like a routine than an occasion, looking at the cut above his brow from the night before he reached for the cupboard handle, his hand searching blankly around to find the toothpaste, his concentration on other things, he felt the stained, crumpled tube and grabbed at it. He picked up the blue toothbrush from the cup on the sinks edge and squeezed a small amount of toothpaste onto the bristled head. As the taste hit his tongue he wretched in disgust, only just realizing that he picked up the Thrush medication next to the toothpaste (property of his ex-girlfriend). In a shudder he swore and cursed at the repulsive thought and spat the medication out into the basin, while swigging a large amount of mouthwash to take the remnants away.
(Over his bacon sandwich he started he smiled slightly at the thought of the incident, he told himself that it would be safe to say that he couldn't get crabs in his mouth).
It turned 8 o'clock, as he set of out of his flat into the elevator and out into the rain. It was a bit lighter on his head than it seemed earlier.
"...Hey Tony, the weather is not to good today, heavy rain most of the day but it will only be small erratic showers later. But the weather has caused some congestion on many roads so if you're driving ..."
He turned off the radio, it only depressed him, never any good news or weather reports, and the music is equally as entertaining.
He had a fifth teen minute journey ahead of him, and that is a long time with no music!
but as if by coincidence he ran into a blockage. He sat there patiently humming to a song that he detested until the knocking on the window brought him back to reality.
He opened the window to find Sarah covered in blood staggering to his car. Her face showing the pain and anguish that she felt, she fell weak by the side of the car. Urgently he opened the car door and put his arms around his little sister, tears and wet sticky blood running onto his top.
"What the...", "what happened, are you OK? You need an ambulance, For god sake.."
the wound in her stomach started to tear open by itself, the blood running from her body like a river, her life slowly slipping through his hands.
A weak hand fell onto his shoulder and he looked at his sisters pale face, the tears running from his eyes as she faintly spoke.
"... y-yy you.. ...need... ..t - to.. go to",
her eyes closed and he gently slapped her face to keep her awake.
"What? I can't here you, C'MON!"
She raised an almost broken arm and held out a blood-stained photograph.
He grabbed the picture and glanced at it, looking at his sister slowly dying.
He felt the body becoming limp in his arms.
"No! Sarah, you can't die! I wont let you – someone help us please, the once blocked road was now empty. He yelled at the top of his lungs, the tears streaming down his face now, mixing with the blood of his sister.
"No...NO!. SARAH!"
The body of his dead sister remained there in his arms as he shouted in anger, anger building up inside of him. He glanced to the right and noticed the medic sprinting up the path to the pool of blood that he knelt it. He gently place her body down and walked away from the horrific sight, knowing that he was going to loose it.
Pacing away - unsteadily - for a few metres before he collapsed onto his bruised knees. The sticky red substance covered his front as he felt the cement, cold and harsh, under his hands and knees. He let his sister down, his little sister. He remembered the expression on her face as she took her last breath. The eyes that were once an icy blue turning into a dull half closed glaze, the smile from those lips harbouring nothing but unfinished words, words that only he was meant to hear. The picture was too vivid, it caused him to smash his head off the floor in anger and he broke into tears.
Nothing but hate and a bitter memory lingered, staining his emotion for as as long as he was going to live. He looked up to the sky as the fog started to fall...