SORRY - written by jrqc

 

As the day dawned, her eyes slowly opened to a blurry white-satin curtain to the left side of her bed. She furrowed her eyebrows while trying to register the view in front of her, lustrous, well-kept and exceptionally tidied, which reflected up to a certain extent a part of her inner self. The books and many other items were not misplaced, they were in fact, in the right place, arranged according to size or color. Nothing was left unattended or casually left around. 

Sighing in dissatisfaction, she got up and put her slippers on, while tying her brightly-clean brown hair in a ponytail, She looked herself in the mirror twitching the corner of her mouth to the right while raising her brows. Her husband, still sleeping, turned slightly in the large bed. She looked at him, and resumed to her cares, not giving much of an importance to him. 

Was her life completed in the sense of having a good marriage and a husband who loves her deeply? Is her own happiness dependant on being married and be expected to fulfill her duties as a wife? Does her so-called happiness relies on being with someone?

She took a photo of her wedding day, her sunny smile bringing light to her existence, and her eyes professed love for her husband, that man whom she had embraced warmly and to whom she believed had given her heart to. Her heart raced up for a moment, almost to the brink of anxiety, her right hand gripping her bathrobe while she put the photo back in its right place, at the right angle while she observed the whole place around her. Her head bowed down and her eyebrows turned upright. Sadness. Dissatisfaction. 

She picked up a few belongings and placed them inside a travelling bag. She changed clothes into something much more comfortable to go out. No clacking of  silverware or plates in the kitchen were heard. No music came from the player. Nothing. 

He woke up. It was the silence that took hold of the place that had awakened him. She was nowhere to be found. Only a small note written and left on the counter. "Sorry."