~Death Wish~

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Her heart was pounding. Why had he yelled at her? Who did he think he was? She paced the proclin bathroom at a steady pace. The blue of the walls made her want to scream but then again everything that had just happened made her want to scream. She had done everything she could have possibly known to do for the situation that didn't mean that because it didn't work that it was her fault. Britt tried to slow her pace, to calm down. She stops pacing and stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her long brown sexy curls fell over her shoulders, her eyes a calm brown just light enough to be the color of caramel, her lightly tanned skin complimented her soft pink lips and the spotted surface of freckles. She takes her hand and runs it down the decorative pattern of the mirror's golden frame. She takes a deep breath followed by another, she was to think about this logically. Following the event's that had gotten him so fuming to begin with. She could recall that he had come home already upset last night over something, but when she had asked about it he had blocked her out. She knew him most and was calm about how persistent she was as she tried to target what was causing so much negativity. He had barely touched supper yesterday night and each day  he seemed to pull within himself and to her that didn't seem fair. She let it slide for a week but all it did now was hang on her. She pressed him harder and he just snapped on her. "You don't need to keep god damnly asking woman! I'm fine dammit leave me be I just need time away from everything!""What do you mean? Like you and me?" Britt asked. "Everything." He said, "I'll be back, but right now, it's too much. I'll call you." With that he grabbed his keys and a few belongings; tracing after his steps she watched as he left. Chris seemed to be going through a lot, she understood this. What she didn't understand was why he couldn't be open with her, she enjoyed the bond of being able to. However, with him blocking her out and taking off she was left in a hurt confusion of why couldn't he just open up. Britt decided to let things go, she hated torturing herself over the thoughts of him. He had chosen to block her out and go. She knew he'd be back but she wanted to be happy while she could. Britt looks around trying to locate the phone. She leaves the bathroom and heads toward the last room that she had seen it. Entering the hallway the yellow lighting cast a glow on the lime green walls making it seem greener than it really was. "Ouch! You little shit." Britt curses at the small chestnut table she had just stubbed her toe on. Continuing to the living room she limps her way to the couch where she plops down to examine her toe, it was red and slightly swollen but that was all. Digging through the cushions of the couch as she tried to retract something that felt like a phone. She grasped on something hard and pulled it out, freaking out in shock she finds that she is holding a handgun. She looses it to the ground in her fumbling struggle to accept the surprise that laid in her hands. She closed her eyes as she watched it fall, almost as if it was in slow motion. Britt hoped that it's safety was on but she braced herself for a shot. A bang reaches her ears before the blackness takes over her eyes. That night Chris decided to come home, he needed someone to talk to. He knocks at the door quietly wondering if Britt was awake anymore, he knew it was late but he had all day to do his thinking. He needed to tell Britt that he was starting to get really depressed and wanted some help. He paces before the door, he could hear soft music coming from the bathroom upstairs. The phone begins to ring and ring but she didn't seem to be wanting to pick it up because it continued to ring. Reluctantly, he gave up waiting at the door and let himself in. The sight of his biggest hell, laid dead in front. The gun on the floor, her lifeless body lay in the heep of the pillows on the couch. He falls to his knees and crawls to her side, taking her cold lifeless body in her arms he cradles the best thing that had ever made him happy. He had lost the thing that meant most to him, the only thing that made him happy just because he didn't want to ask for help when she had always been there to help him. The phone continued to ring, driving his mind insane at the moment of things and then came to a dead stop. He collects her in his arms and reaches into the cushions looking for the telephone. He needed to call 911. He already knew that she wasn't saveable upon her condition, rigor mortis was spreading throughout her body. He fumbles around and grasp it's cold hard plastic in his hands and retrieves it to his ear as he dials. The emergency patcher answers and he explains that he came home to his girlfriend dead. He knew how bad this situation made him look. His girlfriend dead and he was there alive. When the sirens flashed blues and reds on his walls it had startled him from a sleep he was not aware of even falling into. He was still cradling the best thing in his life in his strong muscular arms. How could he have let his mind lose so much control that he would lose the best thing to him. He wish he could go back and be more calm about things. He didn't want things to happen this way never thought that they would end up this way but they had. He loved her, he loved her more than anyone he had ever met. There's a knock on the door with three defined knocks. "Come in!" Chris yelled toward the direction of the door. Shortly as his word left his mouth they came in and filed a report following the information to him. Most of the guys knew him from his work as a volunteer firefighter around the community and empathize with him. The worst part of the night was when they took her body from him. He chased the gurney wanting to be with her presence even with no life left. Her death was reported as a suicide for he was not home at the time of her death. He blamed himself for it, for getting so irrational when she just wanted to talk, for having the gun hidden like it was from countless nights of contemplating taking his own life; but now her life was gone and he was still alive. That night Chris made his way to his bed he had once shared with the girl of his dreams. Looking at its emptiness; its emptiness of her presence, her smile, her laugh, their dreams, their kids, and everything was gone. He grabs the keys to his Ford and a bottle of vodka and leaves the room while gulping down various amounts of the liquid. He walks through the house headed for one wall, the wall with their very first picture. She sat on the bench next to him, the fall leaves falling around them, the brightest smile across her face as she stared lovingly into him, their hands clasped in a passionate embrace. Taking it down from the wall he follows the kitchen into the dark dusty garage and climbs into the 4x4 navy blue Ford. He slides the key into the ignition pausing slightly and then in reverse he speed out of the driveway. Speeding into the street he was out to find his own cure. To complete his dream of being with his dream girl. His false wish of death due to depression was now a true wish to be with his true happiness. He embraced death that night, like a friend, driving off the interstate bridge but not before ramming the car into the concrete barrier, flipping the car and landing it sinking in the water of the river below. The car filled with water at a rapid pace as glass shattered on contact with the water. Shards hurtling through the water scrape against his face and skin leaving little trails of blood to mix with the water. He gasped his last short breaths, and let go.. Britt taking his hand and leading him forward once more.  

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