The rain falls as he stands waiting for his sorrow to be washed away. It’s all a lie though, the rain doesn’t wash his sorrows away, all it does is make him tremble with cold. He makes his way back to his apartment, fourth floor, third one on the right, leaving a trail of his footsteps along the carpeted floor of the corridor. Inside his apartment, he heads directly to the bathroom, still leaving a trail of footsteps, now on his carpeted floor. His bathroom is warm and smells of fresh lavendar, its tiles are light blue and its walls, grey.
The mirror that reflects him shows a tall, sallow skinned, bearded man. He stands there thinking of his life and how he is such a failure. He thinks of his parents and how they had abandoned him. He thinks of his girlfriend and how she had so easily slept with his very own brother. He thinks of his job. His car. He reaches for the gun that is placed right beside his shaving instrument. His apartment. His grandmother. He holds the gun to his temple shaking with fear. He had failed in everything. The last thing he thinks of is this world and how horrible it is, how everyone just loved people that were successful, rich and good looking. All thats left to do now is to pull the trigger, he smiles at the thought of that. He thinks of how no one ever did love or care for him. Bang.
The blood splashes across the grey wall and touches the floor; red against blue. He falls to the ground with a thud, the blood along with his sorrow begins to pool around his lifeless body.
Red against blue.