Our Own Romantic Tragedy

Our Own Romantic Tragedy

         When she walked in the apartment door she immediately knew something wasn't right. The living room was empty of any living being as was the kitchen. As she looked around she spotted a few drops of blood on the stained carpet in the hallway that led to their bedroom and bathroom. She took her glasses off and set them on the table along with her keys and purse.

         As she walked down the hallway she called out his name and when no immediate answer came her heart started pounding heavily in her chest. She came to the bathroom door first. It was slightly ajar and she now saw a faint candle light coming through. When she pushed the door all the way opened she found it empty. The bathtub was full to the brim with water and the faucet was slowly dripping. On the counter was one single candle emmiting the only light in the room. She recognized the candle. It was from her prom a few years back. She couldn't tell if it was his or hers that was burning.

         She blew out the candle, mentally reprimanding him for leaving it burning when he wasn't in the room, and silently closed the door. She walked the rest of the way down the hall to their bedroom and pushed open the door only to see complete darkness. She flipped the light switch on the wall beside the door but nothing happened. She flipped it a few more times and sighed when nothing happened. Again she called his name but this time softer, a whisper.

         Her answer was another candle being lit to her right where she knew her dresser was. She tensed a little and turned in the direction of the light first noticing that this candle was the matching one to the one in the bathroom. Her gaze traveled from the candle holder to the flame then to body standing beside it. He was only wearing a black pair of pants, the one's she had gotten him for his birthday a few months ago. Their gazes locked, her green eyes worried and questioning and his blue ones cold and determined with only a hint of sadness.

         She started to go to him, to ask him what was wrong, but stopped dead when she saw a drop of blood fall from behind his hand and hit the carpet silently. He had his palms facing away from her and she quickly strode towards him and pulled his hand to her to see what had happened. Then she followed with the other one. Both had identical marks on them, in the center of each palm he had carved an 'X'. Again their gazes locked only this time her eyes burned with anger. She couldn't understand why he would do this without telling her. He knew how she felt about his hands, she had told him on countless occasions. She liked having his hands free of marks, it felt so much better that way when he was using them to explore her body.

         She squeezed her eyes shut and simultaneously dropped his hands and turned away from him. But before she could even take a step away he grabbed her around the waist with his left hand and pulled her to him so that her back was flat against his chest. She didn't say anything as he did so but silently rewarded herself for deciding to wear a backless shirt that day. She leaned into him enjoying the feel of his skin against hers until she heard a silent click. Her eyes flew open as she recognized what exactly it was. The handgun he had bought a year ago after someone had tried to break in the apartment. It was the sound of the safety being turned off.

         She roughly tried to move away from him but his hold on her only tightened until it was painful. She let out a little wimper of protest and he loosened his hold slightly. Her thoughts were racing. They had talked about this. How he wanted it to end this way, or any of the other ways he had planned out his own death. She didn't really think he was serious at the time but now she realized that her belief came too late. He was going to kill her, and then he was going to kill himself. Angry tears burned her eyes but she blinked them back trying to stay calm. She needed to be calm. She needed to try and reason with him.

         He slowly raised the gun to her temple and she, through the gun, could tell his hand was trembling slightly. But she couldn't tell whether that was natural or if he was letting his emotions slip through. Her heart hammered in her chest and her breathing quickened as she tried to think of something to say to him. Something that would make him realize he didn't want to do this.

         But then the gun moved. He used it to turn her head to the left and up so her eyes could clearly see his face. His jaw was clenched and his brow was furrowed in the same way it used to be before they had started dating back in her senior year. His hair was hanging over his eyes and he jerked his head so that it was out of his face. Her nails were digging into his arm, her knuckles white from the force she was using, but her face showed no anger. Only sadness. She knew there was no stopping him.

         Slowly he brought his head down to hers and he simply kissed her. But in that one kiss he put every emotion he had ever felt for her and she in turn did the same for him because she knew that this would be the last time she would ever kiss him again. The kiss seemed to only last a few seconds before her head was again straight and the gun was again pressed to her temple. Only this time his head was beside hers so that when he pulled the trigger the bullet would go through her head and then his. They would die together. He did this so they would always be together. In life, and now in death. A muffled sob escaped her lips and a single tear rolled down her face and then it was all over. There was only blackness and their hearts never beat again.