maybe in the morning. maisy & sasha [ 89th ]
Nov 11, 2021 20:59:11 GMT -5
Post by ✨ zozo. on Nov 11, 2021 20:59:11 GMT -5
"What do I do with it?" you had asked.
"Wait for it to ring."
Then they turned and left you on the porch of your home, holding the telephone in your hands.
So you waited. It slept on your pillow, buried itself in your sheets, carried itself around in your cardigan pockets. Some hours you wanted to scream at it, beg for it to ring. Other times you wanted to hurl it against the wall and watch it crumble and break in your rage.
Each day she lived and it didn't ring. Melancholy girl, you didn't expect it to. At what point you began to drift away from your twin sister you cannot recall, nor could you say who's fault it was. Perhaps it was both of you. Perhaps neither girl at all. You didn't say goodbye and you know she didn't care. Why would it ring?
Why would she want to hear from you? You left her to die, after all.
It's almost as heavy as the burden on your shoulders. She kills a little girl and shrugs away the others. Typical, there's a burn on your tongue where bitterness once sat. All but lost hope, placebo ringing as you fall asleep to be startled awake by imagination -- still, you wait.
And wait. And wait.
Until it rings.
Your hand hovers, frightened to touch it. It blinks green in the dark of your room, lighting up the walls to create shadows on your palm. Spiteful, you could ignore it -- but that was always Sasha's move. Despite her coldness, you always baked a birthday cake to share.
That little girl with a solemn look, shoulders drooping in the corner of a photograph and a cake iced her sister's favourite colour, she picks up the phone despite it all.".........Sasha?"You call out into the dark, waiting for the dial-tone click.
