“Goodbye, I’m sorry, I love you”

Those were her last words. Those words whispered across the dark night sky, were scarier then any of the fights we had ever had. They were scarier then when she screamed, when she argued, when she cried. Six words, that was all it took, and then she was gone.

I followed her, you know. I tried. After she left I puzzled over the first word.
“Goodbye,”
Forever? For now? Until tomorrow?
Later I realized she wasn’t just saying it to me, but to the world.
I didn’t know that when I went after her though. I didn’t know that when I found her apartment door open. I didn’t know that when I entered. I didn’t know that when I found her.

I found the blood first, the trail leading in to the bathroom. Then I found the bloody hand mark on her bathroom door.

At this point I was starting to lose my senses, my sight was swimming in red (whether from the blood or my subconscious I couldn’t be sure) and my sense of smell was drowned out by the smell of blood and vomit (once again I wasn’t sure if it was hers, or mine). I stumbled into the bathroom holding on to the wall for support.
My foot found the next object, a sleeping pill bottle…empty. And finally I came upon my last discovery, Sarah.

She was leaned against the edge of her bathtub, surrounded by water filled with blood. When I found her I assumed the blood on her clothes was from the blood in the water. I was wrong. After a blind dash for the phone and a hysterical phone call, the ambulance showed up.

As they peeled back the blood soaked clothing to reach her heart, they found the cuts. Cut into her skin, RELIEF RELIEF RELIEF RELIEF. These were the words scratched all over her body, still oozing thick red blood.

That’s when I left.

She was dead.

She was gone.

She had left me.