But Reagan refused to cry. He couldn't. And yet deep within him he wept far harder than he ever thought he could. Deep within him, the tears flowed freely. Deep within him, where no one could see, where no one was supposed to see, he truly felt like something had died.
'Get lost! Go away, I don't want to see you ever! You're making things awkward!' She had screamed in frustration and revulsion, leaving him confused. Never mind that he was all beaten up and bloodied. He couldn't, in the first place, understand why she'd to leave. Why she'd allowed them to manhandle him was not even on his mind.
And yet he couldn't let go. She'd loved him once, he believed. She could love him once more.
He remembered the first signs. 'I'm sorry, I tried but I failed. I... It all just keeps coming back whenever I see him. I can't be with you anymore, I'm sorry.' How he chose to believe in spite of the cracks, time spent reassuring her, letting her know he'd always be there. He tried to ask her what was wrong. She never spoke a word.
The bathtub began to overflow.
It was all too perfect, Reagan knew. And yet deep inside of him he wished it were real, that their love was true and would last the test of time. He had made a pledge, he had tried his best and he had been living out his promises all this while. Until now.
He'd met her by chance, at the hotel where they worked. It was just like a fairytale; two kindred souls who happened to share a tea break during one of the lull times. Both were part-timers just looking to earn some extra pocket money. He thought he'd found more.
Reagan winced as the memories flooded back. He'd not known, even now, what had happened and somewhere inside of him, he knew he'd been taken for a ride all this while, only to be dumped when he'd outlived his usefulness. But still he loved.
Why? Why do you leave? Why does that face, once smiling so sweetly, now cast such a pernicious glare?
It didn't matter now. Reagan closed his eyes and breathed his last.
****
Writer's Note
First of all, its a story, the inspiration of which came from a tale written by some dude with free time in NS. I merely borrowed a situation and let the ending develop on its own as I wrote.
It's not real, I'm not trying to be an emo-superhero. I just... want to get back to writing once more. And what better than to start with the genre (for lack of a better word) I'm so familiar with: emo-sob stories.
P.S. I know I'm bad at descriptive words when it comes to the backdrop. ~_~
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