She felt the knife before she saw it.

She felt the knife before she saw it. Working its way through her skin, the blade was unforgiviing. He was unforgiving.

The pain distorted whatever words she tried to scream and the pillow muffled the sound, allowing only a brief shriek to escape into the night. She craned her head away from him and gulped at the air, inhaling sharply, allowing the crisp winter cold to flash through her body like an electric shock.

Eyes wide, she fell to the floor as the blood began to cascade from her wound and crash sloppily to the ground, reminding her of the waterfall they had visited the year before. And reminding her of all the other places they had visited during their volatile three year relationship: Disneyland, the White Mountains, Vegas, and on and on and on. They had been on a lot of cheap trips. Had shared a lot of cheap thrills. Maybe that was what lead to this now? Was there nothing left to distract them from their steadily growing disgust for one another?

Though it mattered little, she had to know. “Why?” she managed in protest from where she lay slumped beside the bed. She listlessly grabbed for his leg. “Please,” she sputtered as blood sprayed out of her mouth.

He came back to her and hunched down, smiling widely. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna leave here happy, knowing I just denied you your dying wish.” And then he was gone. And a few minutes later – so was she.