Today, last year was on a Sunday

I remember it well. I got up early, at 9 a.m. and started cleaning. I carefully arranged to just hide everything at a fingertips reach. I had the ring in my pocket, I had Rose in the Fridge, I had a card on my dresser, and the keys to my brother's car lying on the table. I called you at 11 a.m. and made sure, that you had saved most of the day for us. You were with your mother. You said you'd be another hour or two. So I sat and waited. I called you again at 2 p.m., the same reply. After 5, you still hadn't called me, much less showed up at my door. So I waited, some more, and called you at half past 6. Same reply but with less conviction. By 7, no call, and I knew. You weren't coming. All of this was wasted. By 8 I called you out. You had just begun to injury me. By thirty after 9 you had me bleeding. By 10 by I could feel the noose tighten around my neck. By 11 I was gasping for air as the chair began to fall. By Midnight, I cut the rope, and breathed anew.