Seeing her dead, laying there in her bed with the sheets tucked all the way up to her chin, was to see my whole life in pieces, shattered, cracked, scattered all over the floor. Her nostrils were caked with dried blood...dark black blood... Her hair, grown a little length after the first time we met, I miss her when we first met...everything was perfect then... As I raised the back of my bruised hand to brush her cheek, a tear ran down mine. I rubbed my thumb over the crease between her Cupid's bow and the edge of her nostril. This was the spot I could stare at for hours, bouncing my eye contact between the spot and her lips. The sudden memory shot my spine straight. Don't think about it, you'll start crying harder.
We had just sat down for a movie. It was one of her favorite movies, but I couldn't remember the name. Her arms practically gripping the popcorn bowl, yet every time I reached over to take a handful she'd eye me, my hair, my chin, as if she was observing her prey...but I know she would never hurt me. The couch we were sitting on was more like a loveseat, two spots just for me and her. We had set up a fort type, blankets over our heads, pillows everywhere with the small tv playing at least 4 feet in front of us. Even though the movie was interesting, I couldn't stop staring at her. Her hair in little curls, her brown eyes persistent on the entertainment in front, her delicate hands holding the popcorn, preparing to eat it. I could just...kiss her, right at that moment.
The memory faded. By that time, my eyes were red and bloodshot from practically sobbing. I reached up to fix my hair, for it had lopped in front of my face, a dark brown wavy mop. She was mine. And she was gone.
