Distraught thoughts drifted through your mind, big fat tears rolling down your tomato stained cheeks.
Glistening eyes staring down at the dead, frozen grass, you replayed what just happened over and over in your head.
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Screaming, you slammed your apartment door and ran like crazy along the streets of New York, heading for a specific spot in the park.
It was the one place you felt at peace, at ease, completely content and calm.
Even though it was the dead of winter, you still had to push through several crowds of tourists to reach your haven.
Ignoring the confused and concerned looks pointed in your direction, you arrived at the willow tree.
Yes, the willow tree.
You and Cole formed many memories under its branches.
You remembered picnics during hot summer days, study sessions on the cool autumn weekends accompanied with coffee and thick woollen sweaters.
Oh, all those fragments in time came suddenly rushing forward.
You reminisced about your evening strolls, which usually resulted in the two of you cuddled up under the tree looking over the water.
Oh and remember that time Cole brought you to the frozen pond during the winter months?
You had never learned how to skate as a little girl, so your boyfriend took it upon himself to teach you.
You remember him tying up your skate laces under the willow, warm laughter making up for the freezing temperatures.
All these memories made your present self burst into a wide smile, which soon evaporated as reality hit you.
The hurt.
The anger.
The sadness.
Cole was dead.
Breaking down once again, you bowed your head and sobbed, your cries a stark contrast against the silent air.
How could you have done such a thing.
