Terminal Love

~Preface~

It was raining again. Amidst all of the rain was a thick layer of fog covering the skies.

If I had thoughts that skies were never ending, today wasn't the day to express them.

It had been months, months since I'd felt the all too familliar touch of his hands on my face, sweeping my hair behind my ear. Months since I'd kissed him. Months since the accident.

We were at a friends house, (and this day I remember so clearly) It was Lacey's birthday. Lacey was a friend of mine. I wouldn't tell her my life story, but I knew all about hers.She dated my boyfriend vincent for about a month, before going absolutely loony on him. Although they stayed friends, something still didn't sit well with the two of them. It was like a big cloud of black loomed over them.

Lacey had just turned the big One-Eight, and we were celebrating with shots. Lacey was only on her second one, but she was feeling it, I could tell. She very much out of nowhere stood up slurring and stumbling "Let's have a tooasst, to the happy couple, Emily and Vinthcent, they are my friends, and I uh, Love them ughh...".

Vince and I just laughed, and faced eachother with twinkling eyes. He wasn't into the shot scene so we agreed to have Lacey mix our drinks. Mines blueberry, his strawberry flavored. "Can I taste yours?" Vince said to me with a sweet smile hinting at more than a drink. I smiled and promised "Only if I get some of yours too." Vince looked at me with a wicked grin and said "All yours babe, I love you.""I love you too Vince." We swapped glasses and clicked them together in a secret toast unknown to anyone else but us. Things were going great.

All of a sudden Vince began to sway, his eyes darting back in forth in a way I percieved as being panicky.

He began turning pale, and swaying back and forth, from left to right. He fell back on the couch and fell into a drunken slumber. "Let em sleep it off!" Cackled Lacey. I was scared but couldn't allow myself to admit it may have been a bit more serious than a little over-drinking. Stupidity allowed me to leave him sleeping.

The next morning I wake up, in a room full of headachy vomity people. I roll over to Vince still sleeping.

I reached to give his hand a squeeze, and it was frozen cold. Propping myself up on one elbow, I lean in to give him a kiss on the lips. I jumped, gasping at what I saw. Under his eyes were dark purple bags. His skin was white and chalky. He had no heart beat. No pulse. Vince was dead.

Part of me panicked. Part of me was shattered. But in the far, far back of my mind, part of me remembered that me and Vince had swapped drinks, meaning I was the target.