If You’re Gone
}: I think I’ve already lost you
I think you’re already gone
I think I’m finally scared now
You think I’m weak - I think you’re wrong
I think you’re already leaving
Feels like your hand is on the door
I thought this place was an empire
But now I’m relaxed - I can’t be sure :{
Whitney Truman, slumped against the wall, dark sunglasses hiding her red puffy eyes,
groaned. A white, condensed fog seemed to enfold her memory and she couldn’t
remember what she was doing there. The smell of old coffee struck her nose and she
remembered one thing; She was at her boyfriend, Phil’s house.
No that wasn’t right, they had broken up. Yes that’s it. Phil wasn’t gone completely, just
out of her life. Phil would be asleep in his bed, the covers may be kicked off the end.
}: I think you’re so mean - I think we should try
I think I could need - this in my life
And I think I’m scared - I think too much
I know its wrong its a problem I’m dealing :{
Whitney stood up and stretched. She was stiff and sore all over, but she still couldn’t
remember what had happened last night, or why she was at Phil’s house. She walked
drowsily to the hall, and bumped her hip lightly on the table. A streak of pain went up her
side and stopped when it reached her head. She gasped and almost collapsed. When she
had regained her equilibrium, she continued her journey to the bathroom.
She didn’t bother looking into Phil’s bedroom, because she knew it would be locked. He
always locked his bedroom door, but she couldn’t figure out why.
}: If you’re gone - maybe its time to come home
There’s an awful lot of breathing room
But I can hardly move
If you’re gone - Baby you need to come home
There’s a little bit of something me
In everything in you :{
She turned the bathroom light on and stumbled over to the sink, her sight going fuzzy for
a moment as a piece of sleep stretched across her eye painlessly. She turned on the cold
water and began to splash water on her face. When she had finished, she leaned over the
basin and stared at herself in the mirror.
There was a purple bruise on her left cheek that when she touched lightly made her gasp
again. Her lip had been opened and then closed back again so it was swollen and a deep
shade of red where the blood had dried. He forehead was cut as well and was still
bleeding. She washed the cut out with a towel and stared at herself, this time puzzled. It
appeared she had been in a fight with someone, but who? And why?
}: I bet you’re hard to get over
I bet the room just won’t shine
I bet my hands I can stay here
And I bet you need - more than you mind
I think you’re so mean - I think we should try
I think I could need - this in my life
I think I’m just scared - that I know too much
I can’t relate and that’s a problem I’m feeling :{
When she had finished cleaning herself off, she decided to start some coffee and watch
T.V. until Phil woke up. As she was filling the filter, she glanced at a clock. 1:13 pm. We
must have been up late, she thought and went back to making the coffee.
When she had finished and had turned on Jerry Springer, she vaguely wondered if Phil was
alright. He usually didn’t sleep that much, and he always said he could never sleep during
the day. She decided she’d check up on him at two if he wasn’t up yet.
}: If you’re gone - maybe its time to go home
There’s an awful lot of breathing room
But I can hardly move
If you’re gone - baby you need to come home
There’s a little something me
In everything in you :{
At two Whitney was still alone, now watching some other talk show she didn’t know the
name of, sipping her coffee. She set her mug down and walked up to Phil’s bedroom door.
She knocked once, twice, three times.
“Phil? It’s two o’ clock. You might want to get up.” When she got no reply she knocked
again, louder this time. Still no answer. She tried the door knob unconsciencely and was
surprised when it opened. She stepped into the room and a flood of memories of the night
before bombarded her. Coming in his house, the warm handle of her carving knife, his
frightened face, the blood everywhere. Him limping to his death bed - his bedroom.
Thrown objects hitting her face and body. Angry shouting. The warmth of his blood
flowing over her hands. An evil laughter. Hers, but not.
Whitney looked at the bed, the blood-stained sheets where Phil lay, cuts covering his
body. Tears blurred her vision and she couldn’t believe - wouldn’t believe - she had done
this. No it wasn’t her. It wasn’t her!
“I didn’t mean to! Honestly I didn’t mean to!” She cried out and collasped on the floor, a
heap of sobbing flesh.
}: I think you’re so mean - I think we should try
I think I could need - this in my life
I think I’m just scared - do I talk to much
I know its wrong that’s a problem I’m dealing
If you’re gone - maybe it’s time to come home
There’s an awful lot of breathing room
But I can hardly move
If you’re gone - baby its time to come home
There’s a little bit of something me
In everything in you :{
If You’re Gone - Matchbox Twenty