1 March 2013
"Peter?"
That was one name I was sick sick sick of hearing.
"Peter" The name came out as a shriek this time.
Sick of hearing the name. Seeing his face. Remembering everything that he'd said and done.
I looked at the picture on my bedside table. I needed to get rid of that really. Do something with it. Burn it? Naw, I couldn't do that. He was too pretty! Way too pretty to burn!
"Peter?!?"
"Shut up" I finally screamed. I was sick of hearing his name.
I had to talk to him. I had to do something. Say goodbye or sorry or both, one last time.
Peter • Opuss № I