Wine Stained Lips

Chapter 6.

I was hunched over Beth's lifeless body. Her eyes were open and her face was still in a horrified expression. How? How could this happen? Why her? She was precious. So flawless in every way imaginable.

I was bawling my eyes out. My heart and soul felt as if it were ripped to shreds. I gently placed my hand over her to close her light blue eyes. Beth's mouth hung open from her last cry for help. This was all because of me.

I failed her. I said I would keep her safe. Now she's gone, sitting motionless in front of me. There was absolutely nothing I could do to help anymore. I should've shot that bastard the very first chance I had.

I glanced over at his sickening body, barely able to keep my composure. My mind just wanted to beat the shit out of his corpse, even though he wouldn't endure any type of pain. I didn't though. In the end I never even wanted to come close to touching him.

The police showed up about five minutes later, along with an ambulance. I don't remember a lot, mostly since I was easing in and out of consciousness and my head was pounding like someone was mashing my brain with a sledgehammer. Blurs was all I saw.

A policemen walked up to me and asked, "What's going on here, sir?"

I was confused, he better not think I did this. So help me god. And was he blind? Obviously people are dead. Don't ask me nonchalantly,"what's going on here."

"Well, my name is Grayson May, and this was my girl, Beth Collins. And that, is her ex husband. You probably know who he is."

I'm sure my words were barely audible. the cop was just looking at me and he said, "Get and EMT over here, we'll question him at the hospital."

"Sir, are you okay? Where are you hurt?" Asked a technician.

"My nose is smashed but I don't know what else," I said with a cringe, as a streak of pain entered my head.

"You will be okay, we will take you to the hospital right now," she said soothingly.

I was laid down on a gurney, as the doctors inspected my body for any further damage. I kept drifting to sleep and jolting back awake. It was only 4:12 in the morning, and I felt like I hadn't slept in weeks.

A male doctor told me,"Try not to fall asleep. We need to to stay with us for just a little longer until we arrive. We'll be there shortly."

I followed their orders and tried to stay lively until we got to the emergency room.

We finally got there, and I was rushed into this strange room with a big machine I had never seen before.

I had an MRI to see if I had any internal injuries, although I didn't encounter anything except to my face.
The results came back, and they only told me I had a slight concussion and a fractured nose. Nothing extreme.

I was sent to the police department the next day, and got conferenced. Average questions, like what happened that night, why did you have a gun. I think that's obvious. To kill that scum for what he did to Beth. But I didn't say that, of course.

Luckily I didn't have to go to court for possession of a weapon or anything. I was not in the mood to be trialled upon anytime soon.

~

About one week went by and it felt like every passing day without Beth got harder and harder. The only reason I ever left my house was to go and buy more alcohol. One store actually banned me because I went there three times in a single day. I was starting to become a mess again.

Beth was my rock. She literally kept me grounded and distracted me from drinking uncontrollably all the time. I don't know what I'm going to do without her. I'd never met anyone like her before. Her touch was magical, it sent a tingle down your spine if she placed a hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were as vast as the clear blue sky on a perfect summer day. The one thing I probably missed most was her wine stained lips. Even if we just hung out she always had to have that lipstick on. It didn't matter if she had no other makeup on either.

Beth's birthday was only two days away, and before the incident, I went out and bought her a red wine colored dress, along with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, because it was the first drink we shared.

I didn't even dare open my closet. That's where her present was hidden. My heart just wasn't ready to fase the memory of her. So I went back to my kitchen, opened up another bottle of whiskey, and moved like a snail to the couch.

I couldn't even remember the last moment I didn't feel drunk, before everything happened.

My house was in ruins again. The dinning table had cigarette butts, burns, and ashes all over it, the bathroom was filthy by the half assed job I did to clean up my own vomit. The frame of my parents fell down and broke again, after I threw a chair into the wall.

Mentally I was destroyed, physically I was exhausted and dirty since I hadn't slept or showered in days.

"WHY!" I screamed to myself, "why am I living like this? I am torturing myself."

I started crying again, having another breakdown. I kept track and this was the forty seventh one I had so far. My mind turned blank and I went berserk.

I picked up an empty bottle and launched it at the ceiling. Hard enough that it shattered. My skin felt the burning sensation of microscopic glass particles hitting it. Then I ran upstairs skipping tree at a time. I opened my closet door an pulled the nicely wrapped box from the shelf. Still sobbing, I ripped off the red paper and bow, took out the dress, and went back downstairs.

In my desk drawer I took out a pair of scissors and started hacking holes into the soft material.

"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you," I whispered to myself. My mind hated everything I was doing.

I took the lighter that was in my back pocket and set the rag of a dress I held in my hand, to flames.

Once I saw parts of the dress fall to the floor, I dashed into the kitchen and threw it into the sink.

"No no no. Beth I'm so sorry. I love you. I got this for you," I cried out loud.

I turned the handles of the sink on full blast. Leaving the room, I sat back on the couch with the bottle of whiskey in my grasp again.

It was now 11:42 on a Saturday night, the nights Matt usually calls asking if I want to go to the bar. I ignored his calls for the past two days because I couldn't handle talking to anyone right now.

After I finished the last sip of booze in the bottle I collapsed on my living room floor.