Spoilers: The Prom
Summary: It's the aftermath of the Sermon in the Sewer
Dedication: To the small part of me that has been ripped out and stamped on so many times it has forgotten how to feel…or at least I wish it had.

Why is my room the same? Surely something should be different. Faces on the photos that adorn my walls shouldn’t be smiling. The wallpaper should be jagged and torn, the windows smashed and the blinds ripped from them.

My bed is wrong. It shouldn’t be so comforting. It should be hard like rocks, unmade, the bedding dirty and worn.

My clothes hang like regimented soldiers, waiting to pass an inspection parade. They should be crumpled and stained.

Like my heart.

How long is it since you told me goodbye? It could be an hour, or it could be days.

Am I still crying? My face is still wet, but that could be from before.

Do I still feel?

How did I get here; and can I ever find my way back to where I was before? To who I was before?

Before him.

The ring on my finger suddenly feels like a vice. I tug on it but it won’t let go.

Just like you.

I’m dying; I must be dying. I don’t know how to breathe. I don’t know how to think.

All I know is you.

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