Goodnight, Socialite

III: If I Can't Have You

*Alexander's POV*

I've got your knife inside my back,

Her letter sent chills down my spine and i read it to myself in the deadly silence, occasionally find her corpse within sight as it swayed, moved by the breeze of the open window. How i wanted so badly to cut the rope and stow her body away in a cupboard, unbeknownst to her parents, but i couldn't bring myself to do it. Poor Danielle, hanging there like a leaf from a tree, waiting for Autumn to set it free.
Danielle, let me be your Autumn.

I've got your rope around my neck,

Setting aside the letter before i have finished reading, i rushed to the telephone down the hall and dialed the restaurant to inform the Ainsworth's. I noticed with ever click of the telephone dial that the rain outside was growing more and more violent. I could feel her.
I could feel Danielle even now.
The operator patched me through and the host spoke to me in a calm tone.
"How may i help you sir?"
"Abel and Maggie Ainsworth, tell them, uh, tell them this is Alexander Beckett and they must come home immediately! It concerns their daughter..."
I practically choked on every word as it left my mouth. My thoughts were frantic and scattered like a mad man, but one thing remained abundantly clear... And loud, for that matter:
She knew...
She knows.

I feel the poison in my veins

The host assured me that he would notify her parents immediately, but i'm sure that whatever he tells them will give them some false sense of hope. Make them think that i found Danielle in a fit and that she's better now, or at least safe; but she is neither. I could never help her. In fact, i'm the reason her body's shadow sways across the floor at my feet.
She shifts like a soft pendulum, or the tick of a clock, waiting for the next hour to come so that it may chime and announce to all humanity their mortality, but Danielle reflects mortality better than any clock ever has and ever will.

Corrode and eat away my brain.

As i waited for the arrival of the Ainsworth's, i pondered what i should tell them. How would i explain her death? The note? No! They must never see that note. It shall die with her. I'll burn it if i must, even leave it by the widow to be swept away. No one can ever know of Danielle's intentions, and -through extension- mine.
Where shall i wait when they come?
Downstairs.
I can't be seen waiting with the corpse,
Nor would i like to.

I've told you fifteen dozen times

I find my way through the seemingly pitch black corridor and enter Danielle's room for the last time. Looking around, i see the letter and retrieve it from the dusty dresser. These words... They weren't meant for her parents, they weren't meant for the world, they weren't meant for the eyes of God.
She wrote them to me.
Not the me that her parents or the world or God knows, but the me beneath all of that.
The demon that dwells within me.
She fashioned a noose out of my deceit and snapped her pretty little neck with my words.

And that's one hundred-eighty times

A lone candle sat on the dresser next to where i had left the note and i retrieve it as well. Going over to the window, curtains now blowing violently due to the harsh rain outside. Though the wind's swiftness could knock me backwards, the candle in my hand still blazed as if by a miracle. Wiping the soaked hair back from my view, i raised the note to the flame.

If i can't have you,

As the words began to charr and shrivel at the arrival of the flame, i could still make out the last few lines of her tortured sentiments. That's when i realized, this was no mere suicide note, it was a warning.
She was warning me.
My body went stiff and my throat hitched by the time the fire erased the note from existence.
"...if i can't have you..."

Then no one can.