Last Words

Prologue

I held the knife in my hands, and I called her, my best friend, if no one else knew why she had to. I cried into the phone I must have said goodbye a thousand times, she held her voice steady and with a firm tone told me to put it down, and so I did and so I lived.

But for how long? When would my friend come knocking again, to suck me back into his whirlwind of misery and lost hope? And now that she's gone who do I have to keep me out of the inescapable clutches of death's dark hands, so misleading, alluring I almost welcome them.