Laugh while you can

I remember Jane's face. When she was laughing. Always a big smile showing all those pretty, white teeth, her nose crinkled up in an embarrassing snort. Her eyes filled with tears as she keels over with laughter. She laughs so hard she forgets what was so funny in the first place. But what I loved most about her laugh was the innocent ora that surrounded her. Like she had forever to laugh and enjoy life. But she didn't. And I knew that.

         I knew the entire time. I knew the day that I met her that I should net get attached. That I should pay no attention to the pretty girl with dark hair and icy blue eyes. But I did. We talked and chatted, but most of all, laughed. But now she can't laugh anymore. And neither can I. She's gone forever, never to laugh again. I didn't kill her. The man before me did. He was jealous. He was convinced that if he could no longer have her, nobody could. I remember how crazed he was, his eyes rolled back in his head and his stomach so thin that you could see each, individual rib. I knew he was bad. I saw the hatred in his bloodshot eyes.

         He had made a promise to Jane. A promise never to hurt the one she loved. He promised never to hurt her. She promised not to hurt him.  But when she ended the relationship, it hurt him. She had broken the promise. So he broke his. Now she lays in the dense soil of her favorite rose garden, dried blood clinging to the slit in her decaying throat.