I felt my own bones break under impact the knife. That's the only thing that convinced me it was real. It felt more like when he would hit me. It wasn't the kind of pain I expected.

He let go and I collapsed on the floor. My knees made a loud crunching noise as they hit the concrete beneath the plastic. That almost hurt as much as the stab wound, but I wasn't worrying about it. On impulse, my hand went up to my chest like how you grab onto your finger when you get a paper cut. It's not like it helped.

Stepping away from me he said, "As you probably know, having a demon inside you can heal just about anything. All you have to do is say the name, and you'll live and be mine. But if that's not for you, I won't stop you."

I just stared at the knife handle sticking out of me. Blood was only just soaking into my dress. My mind was going a thousand miles an hour. How could I make this choice before I would inevitably die? There were too many images flashing through my mind.

How my Dad's face would look when he found out I was dead. My sister finding out I was gone just as she was about to graduate, I would ruin that for her forever. I even knew the exact dress my mom would choose to wear to my funeral.

And Peter, I would be leaving him alone. He'd never really had anyone else.

"Not to interrupt your train of thought, but I'm pretty sure I pierced a lung, so you should really be mindful of your oxygen supply if you are planning on taking option number one. Just throwing that out there."

I just glared at him, wanting to tell him everything I'd thought about him in the past year. From the first moment I saw him standing by the house covered in blood, to the cocky smirk he was wearing right at that moment.

I imagined a life staring at that face. Being controlled, beaten, and forced to never be myself until I literally wasn't myself anymore.

But, I also thought of another girl. I saw her with the same grey rash all over her body. I could picture her being smacked in the face for talking, and being coddled by oblivious salon workers. She would worry about her family just as I had. I didn't know her, but I couldn't do that to anyone else. This theoretical girl wouldn't even have Peter.

Peter. He couldn't win. For him, it was either watching me slowly transform into another person while I'm married to someone else, or having to be alone. He didn't even get to make this choice. I had to.

But I had a pretty good guess. Like he said in the beginning, It's a sin to be alone.

I could feel my head go foggy. A dark circle appeared around the corner of my vision.

And with one last wheezing breath, I whispered the name before collapsing onto my side.