Okay, so I wrote the first part to mock a friend who is always missing his girlfriend as she lives in a different part of the province. Then, though I tried to get away from what happened, I couldn't...
Six Days
Six days ago, you told me you loved me, told me you wouldn't leave. You said I was your love and you needed me. I smiled and said the same. Our eyes locked, the reflection of the sunset glistening off your eyes. You leaned in to kiss me, to make my day. The soft grass on the fairy-tale hill swayed in time with my heart. This day was perfect. I never wanted to leave.
Five days ago, we sat on your couch. A chick-flick played on the screen. Though our eyes were locked on it, neither of us was watching. Well, at least not watching the film. My eyes glanced in repetitive movements from the glowing television set to your perfect body. The feminine features were standing out on your face. I leaned away when I saw the expression. Why were you so scared? We got to be together.
Four days ago, we sat on your bed. The look had never left, you had not slept. I wished the expression would leave already. Why did you think of me as a monster? Was it not obvious that I loved you? Didn't you love me back? I shuddered because I knew the answer. If only that look had left. If only I hadn't been so desperate to stay in the moment of the perfect sunset.
Three days ago, we were driving in my old car. We approached a bridge and stopped. I sighed and opened the door. Worry flooded over me. Were you too hot? Did you have enough air? Did the rope chafe? Silently, I walked over to my rusty trunk and pulled it open. My heart skipped a beat. How could someone so perfect be so wrong about me. I could see it in your eyes, the constant fear which had never left. And now, no matter how small it was, you were judging me. In a panic so much greater than I had ever experienced, I lifted you and rested you gently on my shoulder. Something wet hit my back. You were crying. I hated to cause you pain. I couldn't bare it. This would be the last time I ever did.
Two days ago, they called me. I was a primary suspect. I sat, crying on my bed as they searched my small house. Didn't they feel my pain. I would never see you again. Why couldn't you have loved me? I opened up my closet and slipped inside. I have to admit, it did help to be surrounded by your loving face. The one that would never leave. I looked at all of the happy faces. Back then, you thought it was just a crush. You were wrong. I loved you. I needed you. I was more in love than all of the other people on Earth combined. Unfortunately, you didn't love me. Why couldn't you love me? If I couldn't have you, no one could. They wouldn't love you enough.
Yesterday, they came for me. They had it so wrong. Apparently, they found some of your hairs in my trunk. I saw them through my window as they came up the driveway with handcuffs. I couldn't allow this. They were going to arrest me for loving you? No, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were supposed to be here, hugging me, loving me. Why couldn't you love me? You were my life. Two days ago, my life had ended. It had been washed away with you. Why couldn't you love me? This question echoed through me as I started to run out my back door.
Today, they found you. You had accepted my love. They said they found it in your lungs, said it was your cause of death. I had loved you too much. That was why you died. I realized that I couldn't do that to anyone. I would end it before I could hurt anyone else. I sprinted onto the bridge, the sirens close behind. Why had I loved you? I closed my eyes and plunged into darkness. I quickly released the air from my lungs. Within seconds, I would be dead. Weeping, I took a deep breath in and sunk away into nothingness.
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All comments and suggestions are encouraged. This is a first draft though. Generally, I am pleased with the first draft of my writing. Trying to fix it makes it worse, except in novels.
