• Her body lays on the cold metal table. Tubes are sticking out of her arms. Her crimson read blood flows through the tubes, landing in a bag hanging off a hook. Her eyes move feverishly under her lids, searching for something. Something unknown. A man stands abover her, a long shiny knife in hand. His light blonde hair falls over his pale blue eyes. He sweeps it aside with his free hand. The hand with the knife poised above the girls heart, ready to plunge it in her still warm flesh. Her red hair is fanned out on the table like a halo. She opens her eyes slowly, trying to figure out were she is. How she got there. Why she was there. She see's the man. She knows him. He's the one she's been searching for. She inches her hands over to him, the tubes squeeking quietly against the smooth surface of the metal table. "Why?" she asks simply, a pleading look in her eyes. He grabs her hand and starts to stroke it lovingly. "I don't know baby." he whispers. He lowers the knife down to her chest, letting the point jab her creamy skin. "You don't have to." she whispers, tears welling up in her hazel brown eyes. "But I must." his tears drop onto the table. He slowly pushes the blade farther into her chest. Blood starts to well around it, spilling over onto her arms. "I love you." she says weekly. Her eyes start to droop shut. She glimses the man again, his eyes red from the silent tears dropping from his gorgeous eyes. "I love you too." he replies, pushing it farther into her slowly dieing heart. With a gasp her eyes shut suddenly. The man grabs her hand, feeling the icyiness seap through her body. His tears spill freely now, spilling onto her still, lifeless arm. She falls into darkness. Knowing that it was meant to be this way. To be left in the darkness. To be left to fend for herself. It would happen sooner or later, but she would have choosen later. But that was his decision, not hers. She still had the image of him in her mind.