FicWad

Gerard's PoV

I stare at the bright red door; do you remember when you painted it the bright Crimson shade? I'd set off for work one day and you'd covered the plain white paint with a beautiful red that invited people in, that made people want to step into our house and talk to you, embrace you, worship you and your perfection. I walk inside and I want to paint it black.

I stare out of the window, I've taken down all the pictures and paintings in the living room; I can't cope with the bright colours. The red, velvet love seat is tossed on its side; you'd be so upset if you saw your home have the life sucked out of it in such a way. I stare out of the window and see some young girls walk by, the summer had made them dress in light shades of pink and white. I draw the curtains shut and close my eyes.

I stand outside. The line of black cars moves slowly there's a hearse decorated with brightly coloured bunches of flowers, roses and daisies. I can see your coffin through the windows and have to look down. I stare at the floor.

I walk down the street. My long, darn trench coat makes a stark difference to the other people, dressed for the heat. People turn their heads and cross the street to avoid me. Even they can tell my heart is black. Thru can tell my soul has withered away and died with you.

I buy a tin of black paint at the DIY store and stalk home; I'll paint the food soon. I promise. I go to the kitchen and make two cups of coffee. I'll stop making it for you if keep on leaving it to go cold and never drinking it.

I stand at the ocean front. The sea stays a steady green and I wish for it to turn a darker blue. I want the ocean to swallow me whole. I couldn't imagine if happening to you. It has the happen more than once. I stare into the setting sun, I can hear your giggles rattling round inside my head, I hear them at night when I try to sleep. I turn my head away from the sea and wish my world wasn't so black.

I walk into our house and want the door to be painted black. I can't do it myself.

I watch more people walk by, and I turn my head away from the window. I hear a knock at my door. I ignore it and wish the windows were painted black.

The sun shines through the window and I wish it would fade to black.

I stare at the picture of you I have on the desk in my study. I want to cover your face with black paint; black as night, black as coal, black as my very heart.

I swallow and watch my world turn black.