The scene of Guilt
The scene of Guilt
Seemed as if an perfect day, sunny, not a cloud in the sky. We go to have coffee as usual
and laugh and chat. We carry out with the Saturday duties and of course go shopping. But
when we left the mall, an gang of shots was fired and you fall to the ground. I run to you
and you've been shot and I'm having an hard time looking you in your eyes. I call 9-1-1
but it seems as if they can't come quick enough. As you lay there, looking death in the
eye, your body begins to lose temperature. And i throw my Prada blanket over you, cause at
this moment, nothing matters but you. Guilt seeps in my heart, wishing we would have never
went to the mall, i want to blame myself and take your place. You caress my face and say,
" You know i always wanted to be with you and i feel as if i wasn't good enough. I watched
your heart repeatedly broken and i never had the guts to tell you. Your so beautiful and
everything i want. But everything i can't have." Right after he finish speaking, the
ambulance took him to the hospital. I jumped in my car and attempted to follow but i had a
Weights shifted my shoulders and tears began to fall like the Niagara Falls. At that
moment i officially disliked myself. I walked home and was too shame to even go to the
He calls me from the hospital, begging to see me and wondering what happened. I drag
myself out of bed and do the best i can't with my outer appearance. Which is pretty hard,
when you haven't slept in three day's, due to pain. I put on sunglasses to hide me bags,
underneath my eyes.
I walk in and he smiles. He's like an cheerful little baby, you can feel his beams of
happiness in the room.
He asks me, why i have on sunglasses and when i pull the off, his voice cracks and tears
fall. He doesn't have to ask what happened because its all in my gestures.
He gets out of the hospital bed and gets on one knee and purposes. And i accept.
Years later, I'm glad we went to the mall, it took all of that, just to see he's the one
I'm suppose to be with.
Copyright by Sabrina Huggins 2009