Thundering rain poured down from the dark rumbling clouds overhead.
A flash of lightning sucked all his body's energy from his veins and he fell to the soggy ground on to his knees.
His hair was drenched and stuck to the side of his face. He screamed her name a thousand times knowing well she wouldn't come to the window.
The tears that cascaded down from his clenched eyes mixed with the rain drops that decorated his face with sorrow "my love" his lip quivered, not strong enough to speak her name "please come back" he whispered.
But no power on earth could bring her back. No power except for that of Mary Shelley's own inked creation and he knew that monster had only made things worse.
He wanted nothing more than to lay on the wet ground and hope for a lightning rod to strike his limp body.
As he stared up to the dark rainy sky he swore he saw her face in the clouds and he remembered.
He remembered the beer, the car crash, and the phone call to explain the accident.
He remembered her last words "Michael, I'm scared" and the grip she had on his hand getting looser with every breath.
He leaned closer and kissed her scarred forehead "don't be, I'm right here" and she would smile for the last time.
He remembered his throat aching for tears to fall but his eyes were too glazed over by her lifeless body laying in the hospital bed as a monotone beep pulled him from reality.
He blamed himself for her death, not that he was the one who placed the keys in the ignition but he was the one who let her.
