It was, without a doubt a night to be remembered. The stars seemed to resemble the wings of the angels as they recklessly wisped through the autumn sky. With only the glow from the constellations above he found his way through the countless obstacles set before him, as to keep him from his only care in the worldher. Armed with his wits and desire to be honored with the prize of being in her presence, he walked for night and day, until at last, his destination was made. With a few seconds silence to gather himself he made for her window. Calling out her name, in notes only those truly needy could hit, he waited for his lifeline to open the window, ever so slowly. He promised to wait forever but no man can sit in confusion for such a long period of time. After what seemed to be ages, he slowly, but not yet defeated, walked towards the front door. With two raps and no answer, he cautiously forced it ajar. A glance inside was enough warning for him to enter. The lights were out and the only visibility was gracious to a sliver of moonlight that shown through an unattended curtain. Stepping ever so slightly he inched his way towards the foot of the stairs. The house seemed to be in a slumber with only an awkward chill for comfort. The silence seemed almost tacit. When halfway up the stairs his memory relieved him of his confusion, as he was reminded of recent altercations between the two youths. At the top of the steps into the upstairs hall, everything seemed to be dead, even the brightest of colors were slightlylacking. Again one sliver of light streaked the floor in solitude. It protruded from the thinnest of cracks in a barely opened door. His steps seemed to tear through the silence as he slumped on. Beads of sweat now collected themselves on his face, and the lining of his collar soon became moist, causing the lipstick to run. Rose in hand he placed a terrified hand on back of the door. With a mere press against the door, it seemed to fly open with purpose. To his surprise, but not uncommon from the rest of the house, the room was also deserted. Making his way to the old comforts of her bed, a note pinned to the pillow stole his attention. The pillow, he remembered as the one he used to lay his head on as she rested on his chest, falling into dreaming with only the beating of his heart. With a second to come back into reality, he picked up the note. For a lack of better words to say or anything too hurtful to bear, it simply read, I never lost faith, but distance has us drawing white flags to the truth. Goodbye my love. With those words he fell in a riot to his knees taking down with him, the sheets that used to envelope the two of them. Tears streaking, he wished they'd fill the room as to drown him and relieve him of his heartache. To the walls, he pleaded for his love to return. Promises of better care, and no more neglect. His tears became too unbearable and the hurt was tearing him down from the inside. From his back pocket he brought to the picture a 9mm safe house. A click, and moment's hesitation gave way to his reply. With an echo that rang through the house, rattling the floorboards, he fell to the floor, still wrapped in her sheets, motionless. No more than 10 minutes later, she returned to see the greatest, but surely the worst revenge ever. His corpse lying there, gun in hand, tears in eyes. If only she understood that it was he, who never lost faith. Oh if only she could understand, but she never listened, he tried to tell her but his countless reasons were simply Screams on Mute.
