The clock on the wall above the mantle piece ticked away, keeping a track of time; its face showing no emotion. She walked out of the kitchen and sat in the chair opposite the mantle piece, placing a cup of tea on the table next to her and staring out of the window.
People walked by, going about their business. Cars would drive by and cyclists would cycle pass. Even during days when it rained, she would sit there and stare at the rain trickling down the window, listening to the sound of the rain hitting the window, allowing herself to be lost in her thoughts.
Every day, at 3.30 pm, she would sit in the chair and wait. She would wait for her son to walk through the front door, to greet her with a kiss on her cheek and to tell her how his day went at school.
Memories of times when he would walk through to door cursing about some teacher he abhorred, or jump with excitement that the girl he had a crush on asked him out on a date, flooded her mind.
Joy and happiness would fill her heart; but briefly. Realisation gripped her and made her come to her senses, as all those memories and feelings were in the past, they were no longer a reality.
Coldness filled the empty shell that was her, no one was there to hold and comfort her, to say he will return; realisation kept its grip her and remind her everyday that she was alone.
A strong sense of yearning to just be able to hold her child once more, to give up anything and everything to see him, was overwhelming.
Voices in her head echoed and muttered that he left her forever, he wasn't going to come back and he didn't want to see her. Inside her mind, she was fighting a battle with her inner demons; trying to convince herself that it was all an accident, yet her demons were determined on making her think she caused the accident, she was the reason her son left his mother.
At night, the sounds of her sobbing and crying filled the house as she battled with herself. Her only solace was taking sleeping tablets to subdue and quell her inner demons to pass the lonely nights away.