Mar 02
fiction 0 comments challenge: Say
Noruinin's picture

In Memoriam

"I'm sorry," I whisper, but you can't hear me now. I close my eyes and become once more a child, lost in time. Skipping rocks on a clear lake, laughter ringing through the crisp air. You were there too, smiling at me through eyes more familiar than my own. A sister, a friend. I thought everything was perfect. Clearly I was wrong.
The girl who lies across from me now bears the same face, but I no longer recognize it. My nails dig into my palms, crescents of blood taunting me with their smug grins. Remorse fills my lungs, taints my breath. I should have known
Bit by bit my pulse quiets, replaced by the cold beeping of an ECG. Your eyelids lay closed, but barely, as if even that were to much to ask. Your hand rests upon my own, but even that feels like a lie. I missed my chance long ago; it is too late to comfort you now.
As you lie there, the weariness etched into your face is so plain I wonder how I could have been so blind. It was there all along, hidden in every gaze. It was there in the disheveled hair, the twice-worn clothing, the bags beneath your eyes. And, in the end, it was there in the small orange bottles, as empty as the smile I had for so long believed to be genuine.
"I'm sorry," I whisper once more, for all the good it would do. "I should have seen."