It's been a year and a half since you left me since I ruined you, bone by bone, beat by beat. And in the past year and half, as I have been staying in this tiny 6 by 8 room filled with a metal toilet, one "bed" and a chair along with its brown wooden desk, I have been put into solitary confinement twice, called more illicit names than I can count, and put in the hospital by the police officers here three times. But through all the pain that I have endured none of it has made me feel as though I have paid for what I did to you.
I have been put on death row for over ten counts of murder, and out of all this that has happened at least, God answered my prayers for an early death. Today is my last day of breathing, my last day of being a someone even when to everyone else I'm just a callous monster who couldn't even kill himself properly to stay dead. So as I lay in this old bed made out of metal I think about the first time I laid my eyes on you.
The day I met you was the day that I knew you would be the death of me literally. It was a gloomy day in New York and it was the first time in weeks that my anti-depressants were actually working. I must have noticed you a block away when I first saw you, you were heading to Milo's party and wore a tight fitted dress with sneakers. You didn't notice at the time but I was running towards you just to get close enough to see your face, that was when I accidentally slipped in the rain and practically fell into you. I could see that you held an aura that I wanted to hold onto for the rest of my life. And then you did the one thing that caused me to want you more, to take you away from this world, you looked up at me, smiled then put your hand out to shake mine, but I was never good with situations that dealt with touching another person unless it was for sex or — cutting someone's body in half. Which caused your face fall but not your attitude.
"I'm Kea," you said.
"Elias." Skimming over your body, you were pulled away from me in an instant. Walking into the all too familiar brownstone. It's funny how the place I met you was the last place I was at before they took me away before they took you away.
I never got the chance to tell you how beautiful you were when you danced or how I preferred when you just slouched the day away on your old grey couch in your living room. How life has changed. You have written my existence into the world and there's no way I will be erased even after I am long gone.