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Rated: · Other · Death · #1924092
A married couple on their anniversary.

It was a cold windy day in Florida. The skies turned a dark gray and the night was creeping upon us. We walked down the beach, hand in hand, just as lovers would do. The thing was, I didn’t know if we were really in love anymore. Things had started going downhill, and I suspected he was cheating on me with another woman. Drifting into a daze, I didn’t even realize my foot was bleeding until the salt water from the ocean washed over it. I let out a loud ouch from the sting. Luke noticed the pain. “Oh, you must have stepped on a shell.” He said as he picked me up and carried me all the way to the cabin. We had just arrived, and I hadn’t even been inside yet. Luke had offered to carry my things in. When we walked inside, it was beautiful. There were rose petals leading to the bedroom, chicken and sautéed mushrooms on the dining table. It was like our honeymoon all over again. The romantic evening Luke had planned out brought tears to my eyes. Maybe he wasn’t who I thought he was after all. After our dinner, he carried me upstairs, and laid me down on the bed. Kissing my neck, I felt a stab in my stomach. My legs started to break like chicken wings. I screamed loud, but I knew no one would hear. No one was around on this lonely island. I lay there, bleeding out from the wombs, knowing I should have trusted my instincts. Death wasn’t painful. As I lay in the warmth from my own blood, I heard that sweet voice I fell in love with once upon a time. “Happy anniversary honey.”
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