Hold me. That's all I want. I want you to hold me and take the pain away. I want you to soothe my troubled soul. I want you to take away what happened and make the world brand new.
But you can't. I know you would if you could, but it doesnt work that way does it?
The past is written in stone, or is that blood? The dead can't come back. And that's the problem. Its too late for me now. I'm gone from this place and soon I won't feel thius pain. Soon I will be gone too far to be able to tell you my tale.
I will be forgotten, just a handful of newspaper clippings in a box in the attic until someone clears out and tosses the box onto the bonfire.
See how quick the fire takes the dry pages and my memory is reduced to ashes.
So this is my chance, to tell you my side, and maybe save you in the process.
Its strange isn't it how certain days just stick in your mind?
Thursday nights was my late finish at work, my day to cover the phones until 9pm. In the summer i just sat there wanting to be in the pub and in the winter I just wanted to be at home.
Finally, the clock eased its way round to 9 o'clock and I threw my few belongings into my bag, turned off the computer and the office lights and closed the door. As i slipped the lock into the door, I cowed my head against the torrential rain. It had been so sunny when I had come into work this morning that I wore only a light jacket. Despite my best efforts, by the time the door was locked and the key safety stowed in my bag, the hair and clothes were plastered to my body. I didnt even bother to hurry to the car, suddently realsing I wouldnt get much wetter than I was.
I put the heater on high and the wipers on full as I pulled on to the road, my mind already wandering through the contents of my fridge. Recollecting not much to get my taste buds excited, I pulled up outside the takeaway and hurried inside.
One sweet and sour chicken and rice richer, I hurried back to the car, face down against the rain, a puddle soaking the bottom of my trousers when suddenly something slaamed into me.
As I fell backwards, into the puddle and in the opposite direction to my chinese, I saw a man loom over me. Panic caught my throat and stopped me from screaming as his hand reached out towards me.
"I'm so sorry" he spluttered, catching his hand under my arm to help me up. By now the effects of the car's heater had been totally undone and once again I was soaked to the skin, only now my backside was screaming in agony. It was some consolation to see he was as wet as I!
Both our eyes turned to the ruins of food now lying soggy on the floor and again he repeated "i'm so sorry".
"It's ok, honestly. I wasn't looking where i was going, too busy thinknig about the dry car and my supper and a nice bottle of wine" i rambled, aimlessly. I was suddenly conscious that i wasn't wearing alot of clothes, and what i was wearing was stuck to me like a second skin.
Shivering, I pulled my arms around my chest.
"I'm sorry" he repeated for a third time, "And now i've ruined your supper and kept you standing in the rain. I'll replace your food of course, but it hardly seems to compensate for the delay getting to your wine" as the barest of smiles played on his lips.
I only realsied his hand was still on my arm as he pulled me inside the takeaway and rain pooling at our feet whilst I waited for my food, he scrawled his number onto a piece of paper.
"The least I can do is take you out for dinner, I mean you and your boyfriend, husband...?" The question hung in the air as I caught his eye and smiled back.
"No boyfriend, and you definately owe me dinner", I said, and grabbing my bag I left his stanfing in the shop as I hurried out of the door and into my car. Thank god it had finally stopped raining!