The rain beat against the window, his face was reflected in the glass. The fog on the window from his breath distorted his facial image. The rain drops entwined themselves into his hair and continued to fall down his cheeks.

He was so cold and lonely. Incessantly starring through the partially stained glass, he saw two people, one of which he knew. Both seemed to be happy. They sat together at a dinner table. There were candles to make the lighting very subtle. After standing for what seemed like hours and hours, his feet grew numb. The rain repeatedly clapped on his scalp like an applauding crowd. The thoughts raced through his head like the cars on the street behind him. “What didn't I have that he does?”

An old memory from the past of the two of them flashed in his mind. They were holding hands whiling walking in the park. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. The sky was clear and the sun was shining so bright. He missed that moment. He was wrapped up in her. He loved her. Amy. . . it was the most beautiful name in the world. He would die for this girl. He shuttered to think that she was with him now. He turned away disgusted. The question still went through his mind. Why? Why not me? What did I do wrong? He turned back peering through the window giving the truth one last glance before walking away.

On his way home way home he stopped at a small Starbucks coffee shop for a drink. The four dollar vanilla cappuccino tasted amazing as it slide down his throat. He wrapped his hands around the warm cup. The heat relaxed his hands that seemed to be so tense. He knew what he wanted to do, but not what he needed to do. Anger crowded his thoughts. He wanted to kill the stranger at that moment.




“Now, what to do, what to do. . .?” He was so confused and lost. He didn't want to accept what he had seen. Ring! The phone at the front counter rang, and the server answered. “Thank you for calling Starbucks, how may I help you?” The light in the corner of the room flickered. The chair squeaked on the hardwood floor as he rose to stand. The bell rang as he pushed the door open to leave.
The sidewalks were still busy and the Chicago night streets were still jammed with traffic. It was nine thirty six and almost his bedtime. Not tonight though. His mind was still filled with these random thoughts of hatred. The air smelled of car exhaust and food from nearby restaurants. He walked slower than everyone else and his face was stuck to the ground. He heard others conversations as he walked past them.

He finally reached the old worn down concrete steps of his apartment. He slowly walked up the stairs while grabbing his house keys out of his pants that were still damp from the rain. He was sweating and he felt nasty. It was so humid out that night. The front door creaked and swung open. He through his keys down on the table. Lights shown through the blinds on the red living room walls from passing cars. Plopping down on the sofa he thought, “Man! I wish I could be with her now.” Thoughts of those two only made it worse for him. He wanted to feel better right now. The frustration had really caught up with him now.


He got up off the crouch and went into his bedroom where he sat on the edge of his bed. His breathing rate and heart beat increased at the same time. He felt dizzy. He starred up and looked at the gun case on the top of his entertainment center. His eyes watered and tears ran down his face. He opened the rough black case and lifted out the cold forty-five. His hands were shaking and he was nervous. A burst of anger flowed through him. He put the gun to his head. He tugged on the trigger and quenched his eyes. Frustration continued to race.





RING! RING! The phone rang. He sat the gun down on the bed and reached for the phone on the end table .

“Hello!”

“Hey!”

“Who is this?”

“It's me, Amy.”

“Amy? What do you want?”

“I was just calling to say hey.”

“Oh, well, hey.”

“So, what did you do tonight?”

“Well, I had dinner with my guy friend Josh.”

“Who's Josh? Your new boyfriend?”

“No!, Josh is gay. I invited him over to eat with me cause he was having a bad day. His boyfriend broke up with him and he doesn't know why.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, but he's gone now. What did you do tonight?”

He paused and thought about what she just asked him. He knew what he had done, but he wasn't going to tell her.

“I just went by Starbucks and got something to drink.”

“That's cool. I just wanted to call and say hi, and to see how you are doing. I guess I'll talk to you later though.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye!”



He hung up the phone. He realized that for the past two hours, his actions were for no reason at all. He felt awful and at the same time overwhelmed; at least he knew that his ex-girlfriend wasn't seeing anyone now. What did that mean though? Could he possibly get back with her at all? He wanted to. He still loved her. He knew that he would never again view things in his way without hearing the other persons side. He was changed by it.