My hands traced the ridges and dips of my stomach, stinging pain lingering after the tips of my fingers. The claret liquor emptied from my mouth, slipping down the edges of my lips, traversing over my deathly dim skin. It tainted what was pure, destroyed what was thriving, shrieked unto the silence. I reached up to where my heart once was, circling the hole, which had been bored into my ribs. Tears were torn from my eyes, moving them to be brought to the earth, where they flooded over the walls and poured out to the newly foreign land. I was confined in a crystal case, the walls towering and the floor frail, anticipating the moment to give out and discard me into the ghastly trap below. I knew it was inevitable, my demise, but I still clung to the jagged peaks of the walls, the concept of death bewildering me. I was in a never-faltering state of exhaustion, my bones ready to end it here, but my brain had another plan. I knew, I knew that shortly, my fingers would be tugged off of the edges I was dangling from, but the way down was lengthy and agonizing. I should have never cursed my own fate with those words, those horrifying, ominous, menacing words.
"I love you."
