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Run through

All day long people asked her what was wrong. She seemed a bit off, they said. Was everything okay? Did she need anything? Someone offered to buy her chocolate, another person sang her favourite song, and towards the end of the day when something silly made her break into a feeble smile, someone else stood up and clapped. What was that for? She asked with a puzzled expression on her face. It's the first time you've smiled all day. I have missed that smile so much, you're just not the same without it, she was told. She returned to her desk to continue a tedious task. Her eyes welled up and she thought she would burst into uncontrollable sobs, when someone asked her if she was okay and if she wanted to talk. She just shook her head and whispered no. When night fell, she knew she had to hear his voice just to feel whole again. Her throat was dry and she could feel the nervousness in the pit of her stomach. He had no idea what she had been through and so didn't everyone else who met her that day. The only difference was that they wanted to get through the wall she had built, while he just wanted to get to the end of the conversation. After all, he hadn't seen her face... he couldn't see the hollowness that remained after her soul had been sucked out. He just didn't have a clue about what she was going through. All he had to rely on were words that seemed familiar and, by now, tiresome and time-consuming. Sensing his impatience, she knew she wouldn't be able to tell him today either. She said goodbye for the day and placed her phone down on the car seat. She closed her eyes and wondered if she would find the answer on Google. She slowly picked up her phone again and typed these words into the search engine - How to tell someone you love that you are dying. Without bothering to look at results on the screen, she turned her face toward the window and let out a silent scream.

The Cloudcutter

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