Rb: “So let me get this right, Angel. Randy has the hots for you?” *smirk*
Angel: “This isn’t funny.”
Rb: “And he asked Demon of all people to help him to pop the question? hehe.”
Rb: “Sorry, Angel, I’m not laughing at you. That idiot Random Ness gets what he deserves for even trusting Demon. First, he’s a demon. Second, he hates you and Randy. Third… this is Demon we’re talking about, right?”
Angel: “Randy is a bit… naïve… but now he’s so depressed he doesn’t even give us decent writing prompts. He just keeps giving the same writing prompt over and over. What should I do?”
Rb: “What’s the writing prompt?”
Angel: “The pain of a broken heart.”
Rb: “Did one of you use it?”
Angel: “I did. Demon was too busy laughing.”
Rb: “Figures. Let me see what you wrote…”
The dark is where I belong. Shut into a room and away from the rest of the world so not to infect them with this painful illness. This festering pain creeps in my chest as I imagine your smile. It’s a torture that twists and sours my stomach keeping any appetite at bay.
The memories of your touch, your smell… over and over in my head as I lay here, wishing things could have been different. What did I do wrong? What should I have changed? Why wasn’t I good enough? I loved you and yet…
Throbbing against my temples brings tears to my eyes. I belong here in the dark, where the light doesn’t hurt, doesn’t make it worse. The light shows what I wish to keep hidden. The bitter anger and consuming sadness, I cannot deny they exist and yet in the light they would be a beacon to everyone about my plight.
I will not be a banner for the broken-hearted.
You may have left me, broken and cringing, but I will not share this sickness. I will not drag another into my abyss.
In the dark, I’ll remain curled and crying until the agony eases and I can pretend the pain doesn’t exist. Right here I’ll pray that this disease doesn’t spread to another soul, destroying their hope of love.
Rb: “I like it.”
Angel: “Thank you. So what do we do about Randy?”
Rb: “Let me handle this.”