• A stainless steel blade stares at my in the face. Next to it are the white roses you sent to me. You're apologies are fake. You're only sorry for yourself. And when you say that you're sorry, It means you won't ever do it again. But why? Why would you insist on being with me when we clearly know that all this time, you were with her. I've remembered way to much. I'm sick of it. I grasp my blade and glide it across my arms. My blood stains your roses. The roses I soon sent back to you. You look me deeply in the eyes and ask, "Why...?" But of course you don't really mean what you say... So I look back and simply say, "I'm sorry that your little girlfriend got shot." You look ed at me with wide eyes and fell to your knees. I felt happy. I nice grin appeared on my face. You spot the Beretta in my holster. I hold it to your face and pull the trigger. Bullets ring out and dive into your skull. You're dead.. I threw the rose on your dead body. "Happy Anniversary..."