Earthquake

Emerson

My conscience is vicious

I have been home for three days. Frank hasn't said a word to me. Every time I glance at him, he looks away.

I'm sorry. Just look at me. Please.

"Frank."

He turned to face me, surprised to hear my voice.

"I'm sorry...Frankie. Please."

He clenched his jaw. His face was hard. His eyes were cold. He looked like a statue. A beautiful statue.

"No." His words were firm and final.

"Frankie...why?"

His eyes flashed angrily at me the moment my words came out.

"You don't know why?!"

He was so angry. Menacing. I started to back away. I had never seen him like that before. It scared me.

He advanced towards me.

"Do you not know how much you hurt me, Emerson?!"

I could feel the tears coming. I didn't mean to hurt him. Why couldn't he see that?

"You left me! You lied to me! You ripped my heart in half! And I don't think you can fix it."

I didn't mean to.

I'm sorry. I'm no good at fixing things. I'm only good at breaking them.

And I'm begging forgiveness
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