Grabbed from

Night shadows linger on a rain-drenched street corner. Distant sounds of car horns, talking, laughing and shouting permeated across the square.

She was walking briskly, her heels tapping against the wet pavement. Her coat was drenched, so was her chestnut hair. Her eyes, once lit with color, were now glassy and scanned the almost empty town square.

One of their friends had called her to ask for help. Without thinking, she just rushed outside.

Shivering, she fumbled with her phone and scrolled down. A text message notification appeared on the dim screen.

Can I meet you at the square?, she read silently.

She replied, her fingers tapping absently. Where are you? Unfortunately, her fingers hovered over the send icon. She found herself unable to answer to the message, and instead of replying, she exited the messaging app and slid her phone in the pocket.

Emotionally drained, she looked up to find that the skies decided to make another round of downpour. Muttering curses, she found a nearest shed and waited for the deluge to come.

She was startled when her phone rattled.
We need to talk. Please.

Her eyes burned at the message. Blinking furiously, she deleted the message and wondered to herself why had she come to a place at a time like this.

Usually, the square was their usual meeting place. But ever since she called it quits, she mustered enough courage to avoid going here.

Even if her instincts told her to go to him, to hold him, to tell him that she still loves him.

Even if she wanted to go here just to remember everything.

Even if her heart was breaking.

Enough, she told herself. You’re not going back there. Just as she was considering on taking a cab home, her phone chimed. There was an incoming call. Heart in her throat, she debated to answer or not. She didn’t pick up. The caller did not leave a message.

Sliding the phone into her pocket just as thunder rumbled, she heard a distant noise emanating from the far side of the square. Squinting her eyes, she saw a familiar male figure, followed with another two male figures.

Her throat dried up. Transfixed, she watched as the two men helped the first man, who obviously was delirious from intoxication. The man shrugged from the two figures just as he was about to collapse.

She wanted to run to him, to smack him in the face and hug him, but she couldn’t. As she watched, the inebriated man shouted out her name. She jolted, blinking rapidly. He shouted out her name, followed with drunk words of apology.

The two men slung his arms around their shoulders, muttering about being too wasted, and that she wasn’t there. Then the man swore, struggled again, fumbling on his pocket.

He held out a phone, dialed a number.
She ran and hid in the shadows, regardless of the fact that she won’t be heard.

Her phone chimed, and with shaking fingers, she answered the phone.

He drunk-dialed her. But all she heard was his pain and desperation. He even confessed that he is still in love with her.
Hot wet salty drops raced down her face. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it’s alright, to tell that she still feels the same.

But no words came.

Frustrated and pained, the man hung up.

Her arm dropped limply at her side, fingers clenching around her phone. Her tears wouldn’t stop, but she dashed them away.

She stood there, thunder rumbling at a distance.

Hope you liked my short story! It’s my six out of a hundred entries, and I hope that I can conjure up with something like this, only with a positive note. *chuckles*

If you noticed the story’s title, you may be reminded of The Script’s song out of their album Science & Faith (please do not kill me for plagiarizing the title!!!!). I just thought about what the girl felt, and poof! Another dash of songfic. Too bad the song’s not mine.

Nonetheless, enjoy! 😂

– A


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