The End Of Their Story

(Sad Songs-7am)

As I look up to the gray sky, I see no light. No hope in getting better. I feel the bus slow beneath me, but I don't move. I watch a woman get off. She drops her purse as she struggles to carry her groceries. I have no emotions as she drops all of her bags.
I see my house in the distance. It is rough, and damaged. The paint is peeling, leaving a shadowed black under the white paint. I stare at it. This will be the last night I do.
At 12 blocks away, I get off. I walk to the house on the corner of West and Third. It stands as a landmark, built in the early 60s. I walk up the steps, and knock on the door. Inside, I here shuffling, and the door opens. My boyfriend stands there, looking at me with a smile.
"Hey, babe." He looks at me as if I hold the most delicious flavors. I nod, and whisper,  "hi."
"So, is my favorite man here to talk, or..." He trails off, looking down my body. I shake my head no, and I walk inside.
He grabs me by the collar, and drags me up the stairs. He leads me to his bedroom, and shoves me inside. He closes the door and locks it. Then, he jumps on me and shoves me to his bed. He gets on top of my chest, and takes off his shirt. He throws it to the floor, and then grabs my wrists and places them in hole in his bed frame. He grabs the hem of my shirt and rips it, up to my neck. He slides it up to my wrist. He has never had much respect for my clothes, which are only what I can afford from the men's shop downtown.
He slides off me and takes off his jeans. His boxers are bulging underneath. He slides them off next, his length hard. He gets on to my chest and I groan.
"You like that, babe? You want me?" I nod vigorously. I want to remember him like this. He slides down my chest to my waist. He unzips my jeans, and slides them off the bed. Then he sits on my boxers, making me mine as he grinds against them. He slips one hand underneath my boxers and kisses my chest. I moan as his hand grasps my shaft. He moves his hand to the head, loosening his grip as I moan louder. He uses his other hand to strip away my boxers. He gets on me, and sits on my chest.
"Suck me." He thrusts his thighs inwards, pushing his dick closer to me. I look into his eyes and see only crazed, hormonal emotions. I put my tongue on his dick, pulling it closer till it was in my mouth. He slides closer, his legs around my neck. He moans loudly as my nose touches his pelvis bone, having swallowed his shaft whole. He curses me as I rub my hands up his thighs, and I pull my mouth back. I put my tongue at his slit, and move around it. I then stick my tongue in it, and he screams. I remove my hand from his thighs and enter his hole. I curl my hands upward as he bites the top of my head, and claws at my back. I moan as I feel his fingers go low, to my ass. I hit him in his pleasure spot, and he throbs. Once. Twice. On the third, I put my mouth on his tip and suck as the cum releases. He screams into my hair, and then slides to my face. He licks my mouth, and slides down to my waist. He grabs me, and slowly sucks me. I moan into the air, and grab his arms, which are pushing my legs wider apart. He pushes them to a far separation, and then hits me in my spot. I scream, and I feel the sensations around me. One, two, three.... He makes a slight gag, as I am dominant in size. I pull him back up to my face and flip us over, putting him under me. I bite his neck, and go down to his waist. I grab his dick, and take the head and put it in my mouth. I bite down tenderly. He moans loudly, then screams softly.
"S-s-stop." He begs. I nod, and get up. I grab my clothes from the floor and exit. He cries in protest, but I get dressed in the bathroom and run down the stairs. I open the door softly and walk out, not bothering to shut it.
It is now a purple outside, and as I walk to my house, it turns black. Once I'm at my house, I walk straight to my room. I grab the jeans and nice shirt I left on my bed. As I put them on, I look around my room for the last time. My old pictures of me and my sister, of me and my parents, and of my boyfriend. I will never see them again, but that's okay. They'll be happier, and so will I.
I exit my room, and walk to the stairwell that leads to the attic. I climb them slowly, remembering all the times I ran up these, happy and careless. No more.
Once I'm up the stairs, I garb the doorknob for the terrace. I walk outside, smelling the air. It smells like salt, and rain. I walk to the table outside. On it, lies a gun. A small gun, with one bullet. Just enough.
I grab the handle, and click the bullet into place. It sounds strange, foreign to my ears.
I pull the gun up to my head. I hear the sirens of the city. They whisper in my ear like secrets of a friend. I squeeze my eyes shut. Then I pull the trigger.