In the beginning of this story, know how it ends, let me tell you why. And maybe you'll understand.
Killing, murder, death. Many of these things are seen as means of cheap entertainment in our society.
It's a sad fact, but it's true. I imply: sometimes the obvious is what we miss.
Love and lies; these are the uncertainties that drive us to torture the one we love. She didn't have to let me.
Lust and longing; this is the emotional wiring that keep us around to torture ourselves. Oh, how she could have prevented it.
Ending this life is the only logical point of closure anymore, it seems. Remorse.
Death will bring her peace - eternal slumber. Regret.
Her eyes grow blank now, almost graying, as she gazes into mine. Years of life draining away.
Empathy, remorse. Nonexistant.
Regret, though. Oh, how she could have prevented it.