it was me, peering through the shattered mirror, leaking fresh crimson flowing down in steady stream.
it was my lap in which he laid, the glazed blues gazing lifelessly into mine. touched his dark brown hair, now long enough to slightly curl at the ends. soft as usual, rich in depth.
it was in my hands that held the means, the balance to the situation. my revenge. and so i claimed it. over and over, sinking it into his chest to truly find out if he ever had a heart for i could never tell. over and over as the blood hallowed his body like a **** god. over and over, wanting to hear the screams, the sound of agony that i have only internally known. but there was nothing.he gave nothing.
and so i laid with his lifeless body, but he was dead long ago.