The Window

The water poured down upon the stone pavement. To one it would seem as if a pipe had burst due to the cold, chilly weather but the man knew better. He knew that it was not from a pipe but from a window through which the drowning screams of the girl lay silent, the water flowing like the tears that streamed from her eyes. Each tear told a story untold. The man carried on as if nothing was wrong. He didn’t stop nor look back but walked until he could be seen no more. The window on the fourth floor remained open, water gushing out as if it was a daily occurrence. A girl lay in the bathtub, her hair spread around her. Her body was coloured a deep red as if she had been painted on with blood. Her eyes remained wide open, echoing the silent screams that were screamed. Her feet were cold, her hands fisted and as she lay, one would notice that her chest was ripped apart.