An Anecdotal Arrangement.

The Heat Of The Moment.

The heat of the moment. The anger of my words. The power of my hands. The strength of my bite. The venom of my eyes. The heat of the moment. The sadness of her words. The frailty of her hands. The weakness of her fight. The terror of her eyes. In the heat of the moment, I said some words I would truly later regret. With the anger of those words, I did some things I would later forget. With the power of my hands, I hit her with a ferociousness that will live with me forever. The strength in my bite, caused a reaction that I wish I never got. The venom of my eyes, caused a look of horror that will haunt me forever.

When I began to get weaker and weaker, growing more tired with each swing, each word, each look, I finally left her alone. Laying. Whimpering. Crying. All alone on the floor, leaving her to fend for herself. I started to the descend to the room. The room we shared for fifteen years. The room containing so many memories, that later in life I would go crazy remembering. When I got there, picking up the bottle of Jack sitting on my dresser, I took a long drawn out, unneeded drink. Removing the bottle from my lips, I slowly sank to the ground reliving the images of the days events.

She caught me. Caught me cheating. Cheating with her best friend. Best friend of twenty years. Twenty years of friendship. Friendship gone down the drain. Draining the life from her, I began to cheat. Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.

Running. Running to plead. Plead my case of innocence. Knowing it will not work, yet still I ran. I ran to the room. The room I left her. Bleeding. Screaming. Dying. When I reached the room, my eyes scanned the room for her. She wasn't there. There was, however, a path of a deep red liquid creating a line on the hardwood floor. A line that would lead me to her. Eagerly. Hungrily. I followed the path as if it was my lifeline. In the end, it was hers. A lifeline I did not find, and follow quick enough. A line that could have lead me to saving the love of my life. The only girl I ever dreamed of being with.

When I reached the end, I saw nobody. No person. Not her. Where was she? Why did the trail end here? But then I saw it. Her body. Lying. Disfigured. Broken. Dead. Laying in the middle of the street after being hit by a truck. See the trail ended in the middle of a crosswalk. The truck hit her, and keep going. It was a hit and run. A hit and run, I would replay every waking minute. Hour. Second. Of my life. The hit and run that made me say goodbye. Not to her, but to myself. The hit and run that made me insane. The hit and run that ended me.