You’re in her dms. I’m standing at her door with one hand spanning the gaping stab wound in my abdomen while the other grapples the frame, trying to stay upright as I softly whisper ‘hey’ with a smirk before passing out. We are not the same.

The door creaked and moaned as the wind played with it's hinges in the dark. I wanted to move. I wanted to breathe. All I could do was watch the dirt fall on my face and stare up at the night sky. I turned to silent horror as you smirked.

I looked at the bruise on my cheek, it was my fault I should have just done what Asher told me to do. Then he wouldn't have had to punish me. I should have shut my mouth and stayed silent. It was my fault, all my fault.

All I want is someone who actually wants me.

So I guess you were right, you're not the man I want.

Looking in your eyes I re-live all of our moments. To think we fell in love so long ago... Our wedding, our kids', our kids' weddings. How lucky was I to have spent all this time with you? Alas, every story must inevitably come to an end. Goodbye, my love.

Nose pressed against the cold beige corner, I could hear everyone playing outside though the open window. Behind me, Sister Lucille's chalk scraped harsh cursive against the board. She was in the middle of a word, murmuring to herself, when I decided to make a break for it.

Sleeping in guest bedroom due to flu. My ever-faithful Maltese dog, Casey, on the bed with me, sensing I am sick. Husband comes in dark to check on me. Casey lays his small 7-pound body across me, growling ferociously, warning intruder stay away or suffer a deadly attack.