Goodbye my lover. Goodbye my friend.
I see the knife. I see your body. I see the blood.
It's everywhere.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
It's pouring out of your throat, onto the floor. It's on the carpet. It's on my hands.
I don't feel the guilt or regret, I'm numb. No tears; numb.
The smell of rusty life chokes my nostrils; blood. I stand here for what feels like an eternity, just staring at your lifeless, contorted body, with arms and eyes wide open. Time is standing still for me, allowing me to just stare. I suppose time wants me to forever remember this moment.
But time decides to start up again; i hear a knock at the door.
In he comes.
The love of my life, ironically, not my fiance. He notices the corspe in the corner of the room, and he tries to find the right words of gratitude
"you stupid bitch"
Or not.
His hand flies up to my face, and comes pounding down. A hard blow. The blood rushes through my nose and splatters onto my wedding dress. How artistic. The anger concretises itself in the form of fists.
One.
Two.
Three blows til i fall to the floor.
I try to call for help, but no sound escapes my swollen lips. The numbness has gone and your face flashes through my mind. I hope you understand why I killed you on our wedding day. If i hadn't, your fortune would have made its way to him. My murderer. I lay limp, i know his intentions; to kill me.
I'm lying in your blood as he picks up the knife i left by your body, my white dress soaking up each drop of crimson life. I'm being cut open beside you, with the very same knife you were killed wih.
How romantic.
I take your icy, limp hand in my own, and wonder
will you still love me when i see you in heaven?
