Awake, she was a masterpiece, however asleep, she was a wonderland. Her eyes were closed, her spiderlike eyelashes just barely brushing against the cream like skin of her face. Each sporadic freckle was a star, formed together they seemed to hold her together like staples, each small, dark dot adding completing her like the period of a sentence.
Her lips were plump and pink, like luscious fruits waiting to be bitten. Her hair was dripping down over in face like a chocolate waterfall, adding shadows and dimensions only a appreciator of the arts would notice.
She was far too beautiful of a being to be tied down to earth which held her. She was young, I knew that, but she was an old soul, she was ageless, ethereal in beauty, timeless. Every curve of her body, every dip, every self-declared flaw I found beautiful, perfect, masterful.
I remembered when similar thoughts had escaped my lips when I'd described Dorothy. I remembered the pain I felt when she'd left, a pain I'd drawn on myself with a steak knife in a single jagged line.
They'd thought I was depressed, they took my jeans replacing them with string less sweatpants, locking me in a windowless brightly lit room.
But I wasn't suicidal. I wasn't depressed, I was desperate, for her.
"I'll kill myself." I warned her, stood in the kitchen, the knife in hand as I watched her edge towards the door, a kitchen chair held up in front of her like a shield, the pattern of the wood backed furniture item casting shadows on her purple tinted skin.
I remember the string of insults she'd hurled at me, her threats to call the police and then I'd done it, laughing to myself as the scarlet liquid poured onto the tile floor. I remember the sound of her scream and then I'd woken up in the hospital and she was gone.
I thought it would make her stay, the possibility of her lover's demise, but it didn't happen. I never blamed her though, people are weak, self-preservation desperate creatures. Threatening my own life did nothing to ensure we remained intertwined.
I should have stabbed her, I realized that later, then stabbed myself.
We'd remain together then.
I fingered the cross necklace hanging from my neck.
I didn't believe in priests. Church. Tithing, or the believe that the color of your skin or the receiver of your affection somehow affected your status in the afterlife, however I believed in an after. A happily ever after.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Katy's melodic voice said quietly.
Smirking, I wished that the pillow she'd placed between us would and could somehow spontaneously combust.
"What time is it?" she yawned reaching up and rubbing her eyes, my gaze drifting down to the inch of stomach she'd exposed as her shirt had lifted.
"Late." I answered.
"When are we going home?"
I smiled, "Soon."
It was her turn to smile, "I missed Calum."
"Who?"
"Calum."
"Who is that?"
"My best friend."
"A boy?"
"Does it matter?"
"I think so."
"He's not like other guys. He's different. He's.... lovely."
"You love him?"
Propping her head up on her elbow, she nodded.
"I thought you loved me." I said slowly.
"I do."
"You just said you love him."
"I love you both." She laughed, "And I love Sam, and my Mom, and the color purple and snow, and puppies, and lemonade. Love isn't exclusive, it's the opposite, there's always room."
"You're in love with Calum?"
"I don't know Ashton! It doesn't matter. We're friends."
"How do you love me?"
Propping my head up on my elbow, I moved closer to her.
"What do you mean?" she questioned.
"How do you love me?" I repeated, it was a simple enough question, it irritated me that she was avoiding it.
"I love you like family... I don't know." She laughed awkwardly, "You're like... an older brother. You're the closest thing to a decent father figure I've ever had."
"You're too old to be my daughter." I informed her.
"Yeah, I know." She laughed, "And I'm too young to be your wife, why do we have to label it?"
"I like labels."
"I like simplicity."
"I like you."
Her brow furrowed.
I waited for her to speak.
"That night you had your arm around me in bed." She said slowly, "What did you think was going to happen Ashton?"
Smirking, I shrugged.
"I'm being serious." She said, sitting up in bed, "What did you think was going to happen between us? Did you think I was going to sleep with you?"
"My head wasn't thinking." I replied, sitting up across from her, "My heart was."
"Your heart thought that fucking me inches away from where Sam was sleeping was I good idea?"
"Well when you say it like that...." I laughed.
"Ashton it's not funny!" she snapped, rising to her feet and pacing in front of the bed, "You are a grown man! You're big..tall.. You have muscles and adult thoughts and an... adult body."
"So do you." I defended.
"I have boobs!" she cried, "And so will Sam when he's my age! I'm sixteen! I haven't even gotten to the level of health class where they give out condoms yet! I like Disney movies, and I think Barbie's are really pretty. My idea of a dream date includes Build-A-Bear and fro yo! You can't love me like that!"
"Shut up." I whispered, my blood boiling, "You don't mean that so just shut up."
"You don't know what I don't mean?" she laughed, "You don't know what's right and wrong? You do insane things Ashton and then you apologize after but that's not okay! Everyone else things of the consequences before! You have no impulse control!"
Feeling as if I'd been smacked in the face, I stared at her in disbelief.
There was no way that she could know that I had Impulse Control Disorder.
She would leave if she knew.
She couldn't leave.
"What are you doing?" Katy questioned, watching me eerily as she edged towards Sam, "What are you doing?"
She was going to grab her and make a run for it. Like a student analyzing a crouching lion in a documentary, I rose to my feet.
"Don't touch me." She warned. It was a command, however the way her voice wavered it sounded more like a question.
"You aren't leaving again." I informed her calmly.
"You aren't right in the head." She whispered, moving closer to Sam, "Ashton you need serious help."
"Help me then." I pleaded.
She shook her head, "I can't."
"Help me!" I roared, picking up the coffee pot from the bedside table and throwing it at her.
Crying out, she ducked, but it was too late. The pot hit in in the head, smashing on impact and leaving a long, straight cut across her forehead.
Letting out a horrified sob she sank down to the ground, grouping at her head trying to find the source of the blood dripping into her eyes.
Ignoring her, I picked up Sam and paying no attention to her shouts of protest left the room.
Running down the rain slick steps of the hotel, I burst through the back door and fumbling to get my key out of my pocket, unlocked the car.
"Daddy?" Sam questioned groggily.
"It's okay." I assured him, opening the door to the backseat and strapping him into his car seat.
"Where we go?" he asked.
"Home." I answered, "We're going home baby, I'll be right back."
Closing the door, I opened the door to the front seat and reaching into the glove compartment removed the gun I'd purchased from a hooded woman just a few hours prior.
"I'll be right back." I promised Sam, and then I was heading back inside, the gun held in my hand.
"911 what is your emergency?" the woman on the phone questioned.
"There's a murder suicide." I answered, "A male, two females and a child."
"Sir where are you?"
I told her.
"Are they alive?"
"Not for long."
I dropped the phone when I saw Katy, struggling to make it to the elevator, the blood loss from her head slowing her movements and tilting her view of the floor before her.
It wasn't hard to place a hand over her mouth and pull her back into the room. She was too frantic to properly fight back.
She managed to hit me in the lip, I could taste blood on my tongue and feel it dripping down my chin.
I didn't care though.
Clicking the safety on the gun, I wiped my mouth on my sleeve.
"I'm sorry." Katy I said, "I love you. Too much. Too much to let you leave me. I need you. I need to be with you."
The first shot, I missed. The second hit her arm, the third....