Sequel: Wish You Were Here. ›
Band on the Run.
As Tears Go By
July quickly turned to August, the summer would get hotter before Autumn came back around. Italy was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life, we went all around Italy and met a lot of amazing people. I even made a new friend. Her name was Francesca, she was a lot different from Cheryl. I figured that would make me miss her less, but it didn't. Cheryl and I had been best friends since we were kids and I just left her. I was selfish.
"So next weekend we're going to Pompeii right?" Francesca asked me and Melanie as we all walked down the street together, Melanie tried to hold my hand but I pulled my hand away from her. Sometimes when I looked at her hard enough I would realize that I hated her.
"Yeah, we're gonna take a train because somebody is afraid to fly again." Melanie nudges me in the side, I glared at her to keep from ripping her hair right out of her scalp.
Francesca was the only person that knew the real reason I wanted to go to Pompeii so badly, I would never tell Melanie about Pink Floyd being there because she wouldn't let me go. Francesca was also the only person that knew that I planned on leaving Melanie and going back to England. She was going to go with me.
"So, I'll see you later guys. I've got to get to work." Francesca says and leaves us walking down the street.
"I wonder how she learned English so fluently." Melanie says later that night when we were at home.
"Her aunt taught her when she lived with her in London."
Melanie glares up at me, "How did you know that?"
"Well, there's this wonderful thing called listening." I moved away from her and went upstairs to our bedroom, the envelope caught my eye from across the room. I would know that hand writing anywhere, at first I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me.
I picked the envelope out from under the pile of papers and there it was in that familiar writing of his Roger Waters. He had written and she had tried to hide it from me. I looked on the date and he had written me six months ago, I wondered if there were more hidden in the desk. I ripped the envelope open and read the letter.
Nicole,
It's hard for me to write this, mostly because I've never had to write to someone who left me. Well I suppose I'm not expected to write anything to you, I've chosen to so it's not fair for me to be angry about writing you this letter. I am angry though, you've just left. Why did you have to leave me when you know how I need you? I needed you here with me, but you ran away. How could you treat me this way, running away?
Roger
"So next weekend we're going to Pompeii right?" Francesca asked me and Melanie as we all walked down the street together, Melanie tried to hold my hand but I pulled my hand away from her. Sometimes when I looked at her hard enough I would realize that I hated her.
"Yeah, we're gonna take a train because somebody is afraid to fly again." Melanie nudges me in the side, I glared at her to keep from ripping her hair right out of her scalp.
Francesca was the only person that knew the real reason I wanted to go to Pompeii so badly, I would never tell Melanie about Pink Floyd being there because she wouldn't let me go. Francesca was also the only person that knew that I planned on leaving Melanie and going back to England. She was going to go with me.
"So, I'll see you later guys. I've got to get to work." Francesca says and leaves us walking down the street.
"I wonder how she learned English so fluently." Melanie says later that night when we were at home.
"Her aunt taught her when she lived with her in London."
Melanie glares up at me, "How did you know that?"
"Well, there's this wonderful thing called listening." I moved away from her and went upstairs to our bedroom, the envelope caught my eye from across the room. I would know that hand writing anywhere, at first I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me.
I picked the envelope out from under the pile of papers and there it was in that familiar writing of his Roger Waters. He had written and she had tried to hide it from me. I looked on the date and he had written me six months ago, I wondered if there were more hidden in the desk. I ripped the envelope open and read the letter.
Nicole,
It's hard for me to write this, mostly because I've never had to write to someone who left me. Well I suppose I'm not expected to write anything to you, I've chosen to so it's not fair for me to be angry about writing you this letter. I am angry though, you've just left. Why did you have to leave me when you know how I need you? I needed you here with me, but you ran away. How could you treat me this way, running away?
Roger