"She took it all but me"

Harold Gilman. Spencer Frederick Gore (1878–1914), 1906–1907. Oil on canvas.

I wrote this piece of writing for my lecture. It turned out as a quite decent and promising part of an upcoming novel.

The painting of a man is an inspiration of the main character.

Share your thoughts, criticism - everything. I love receiving feedbacks!

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The need to replace or permanently get rid of the burden grew. I was torn between hatred and passion, pain and complete devotion.

The room itself reminded of the days I now find magical, blissful, sinful even. Imprinted sheets kept memories together. It burned to hold them as nothing could wash away the feeling of a simple yet dazzling touch.

Every bit of this room was poisonous and was killing me incredibly fast.

She left nothing but me behind. She took it all but me. Left without any traces of sanity I was viciously planning escape plan myself. Escape and imprison - the same plan she thought herself.

One of the earrings I once gave her was my key to another cell. The same amount of pain this will bring I am sure but I will be the only one at fault.

It shined the same way her eyes did when I shyly put the earring in her delicate yet strong palm. The same feeling filled my guts though this time from hatred. I hated her, I hated the earring she forgot, the plain golden hoop, nevertheless full of heartache. I could not destroy it, so I chose it to destroy me.

I knew that this night I will take it to the room next to mine, leave the earring on the counter and march out of there without a thought that my cassock could be damaged by a harsh close of the door.

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