He reaches across to pull her closer, but she pulls away. His mind races. "What could possibly be wrong?" he wonders. The butterflies in his stomach grow more restless, his heart pounds furiously, threatening to burst through his chest. He stares deep into her eyes trying to read them. "Eyes often mirror the soul", so he'd heard. Nothing pleasant there. A cold, blank stare.Filled with hate and rejection.
Those beautiful, burnt umber eyes that lit up whenever she saw him now glared at him with nothing but cruel intentions. He knew he was wrong, but nothing could have prepared him for this. She backs up even further, widening the growing gap between them.
This couldn't possibly be the end. He frantically raked his mind for a solution. Time seemed to be very happily flying by. When she finally spoke, it seemed like he had been waiting years. What a relief, to hear her voice. Not that the words she spoke were, in any way whatsoever, comforting. In fact, quite the opposite. Voice stern and filled with resolve, she spoke just two words, that brought his world to an abrupt end "Get out." That was all it took.
He got home that night, and took out all their memories. Pictures, can be a pain, as well as a joy. She had been his everything. How could he possibly have let the best thing that ever happened to him slip through his fingers? It made no sense. Now, he had nowhere to turn to. He was alone, by himself, with nobody. Needless to say, he felt he had to end it all.
And so, when the help came to clean up a week later, a dead body hung from the ceiling. Screaming did no good. He was gone, and it was the end.
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