⊗
Swift sat in her apartment, her curtains closed and her stereo quiet. Her cigarette was in her hand, but she hadn’t moved for a while. It’d been a few days since she’d gotten the news and she still couldn’t believe it.
Suicide. Of all the ways he had to die.. She took a deep breath, but her sadness barely shifted. She’s tried so hard to get him to perk up, but it…wasn’t enough..
Then she moved. She snuffed out her dying cigarette on the ashtray beside her bed and brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her shoulders shook as sobs forced their way out of her, quietly at first, then growing in volume.
She couldn’t stop. She’d been broken by someone she could barely remember. And now it was too late to stop, too late to go back and try to find out what happened, what made him like that.
Too late…