Key P.O.V

 

What had I done?

 

You killed him, a voice said.

 

Why did I do it?

 

You did it, because you were tired. You were tired of always being the inferior one. You were tired of all the nights that you waited up for him, you were tired of being neglected, of being unloved. The voice said again.

 

What did I do to us?

 

There was no us.

The voice stopped, all I heard was silence.

 

I tried to remember what it sounded like, the voice. It was a man’s voice; Soft, gentle, but when it spoke, the words HURT.

I was unloved?

I said it as a question.

A small laugh, the noises bouncing of the wall.

 

I was unloved.

I said it as a statement.

 

It was true.

I was… unloved.

I accepted it.

 

You were never there.

You always came back home late.

Sure, you had a job.

Sure, I guess I was useless.

But, I was alone.

At home, with nothing to do.

I would come back from work, early, hoping to catch you.

I never succeeded.

But, sometimes you were home.

It’s just, it was like…

I wasn’t even there.

 

No, I was there, physically.

You would say hi, I would acknowledge you.

We would eat together.

We would get ready for bed.

When we went to sleep, it was silent.

I would whisper goodnight.

That’s when you would actually say something.

“goodnight, babe.”

Then you were gone, you would turn your body away.

A space lay between us and I tried to remove it.

But it was stuck there.

It’s funny because, I never remembered you having to turn your body when you sleep.

You never did that before…

Why now?

 

You used to be here, with me.

I used to be able to hold out my hand, and you would actually take it.

It didn’t take me long to recognize it, so of course you probably figured it out too.

But, you never acted on it.

We stayed the same, we had our routine, and we became DISTANT.

Distant and Silent.

To me, that was all we’d ever be.

To you—I wouldn’t even know.

I barely talked to you anymore.

Again, it’s like “us” never existed.

 

It was a cold, forgotten memory.

A memory that would never leave my mind.

A memory that would always replay itself, over and over again.

A memory that haunts.

a memory—The memory that you just want to forget.