• I watched her deteriorate. I watched her fall to the floor. I watched her fade.

    She always said that a person’s favorite song said more about them than their words ever would. Yet she never told me what her favorite song was. Scarlet wasn’t like anyone you would ever meet. She was dependant, strong, determined and beautiful. The only problem was that she never saw any of these qualities in herself.

    She came from a corrupt background, a father that beat her and a mother that left when she was young. Yet somehow she managed to scramble on for sixteen years. She said she only lived for me and music.

    I still picture that night in my head, it was her sixteenth birthday. She had had a fight with her dad, so she ran to my house. She was distraught. We were alone. I wasn’t quite sure what to do. She had been upset before, but this time there was something in her eyes that terrified me. I tried talking to her, but she wouldn’t listen. She was intent on listening to the song in the background. It was an ominous song, sad and depressing.

    She had a bag with her and she held it tight to her chest. At first I thought this was odd, but I dismissed it anyway. One action I will regret for the rest of my life. She was pacing back and forth. She started murmuring in between the flood of tears, that she had had enough, she was done. I stared at her disorientated, grasping for those words, incapable to end her soliloquy.

    The music created a melancholic backtrack.

    Little did I know what she’d do next …

    Finally she revealed the contents of the bag. She pulled out a revolver. I tried to stop her, to talk her down from the invisible cliff. We were both frantic. I felt the tears stream down my cheeks. I couldn’t hear her anymore; all that I could hear was that song. I couldn’t do anything, I was shocked.

    I was helpless. The music droned on ceaselessly.

    She lifted the revolver to her head and said,” I will always love you.” She took off the safety, pulled the trigger and… Just as the song came to an end, so did she.

    I watched her deteriorate. I watched her fall to the floor. I watched while her blood splattered against the wall.

    I listened to the music fade. I finally learnt what her favourite song was.