Frantic you are.

As you look down to your shaky hands.

All you see is the blood dripping from them.

Though, your hands? They don't feel sticky like blood is.

Is this real?? No, it can't be, is it?

Maybe so.

As you lift your head to your door way all you see is her.

A woman with much emotions to show yet not a face to express them.

Just a blank canvas.

She looks dead.

Not moving and yet she still seems very alive through the hair that drapes over her face like a fragile antique curtain.

Though she doesn't move she just stood there as if she'd be staring straight at you.

Her mouth starts to appear getting wider and wider by the second just smiling as this weird sound comes from her person.

She starts to scream only at you.

For you know the truth.

It's cold.

You don't want them to know how she hurt you, and you hurt her in return.

It's just what your relationship you have with her calls for, a recipe for disaster.

And how you accidentally killed her.