An Unstoppable Love Part 1

The girl laid crumbled on the floor of the living room of her cramped, one room apartment. She was alone in her home, and alone on the inside. She was overwhelmed and afraid. Her chest heaved slowly as her hazel eyes welled with tears. Her frame was curled into a tight ball with her left arm wrapped around her knees squeezing them tightly to her chest. Her right arm, however, was outstretched, palm up, against the beige carpet. A crimson river flowed steadily from it and down her arm; occasionally a large drop would fall from the elbow and stain the carpet. She stared as the life left her body pushing her even closer to the enternal darkness of the end. The agony of her life was leaving her as she became tired and dizzy. A sudden outburst took her offguard and she looked up to see her boyfriend standing in the doorway of their apartment. His face was distorted, horrified of what he saw. "What the hell, Chris?!" He yelled both angry and scared. "You weren't suppose to be home yet..." she whispered. He visibly flinched before marching for the phone. The girl cried out and dived for the phone, knocking it across the room. He then sprinted for the phone and dialed the three numbers. "9-1-1? Yeah. I need an ambulance here, quick. My girlfriend, she cut herself and... No, I don't know how long ago she did it... There's a lot of blood... Yes.... Yes... 7293 West 71st Street.... MetroState Apartments... Building B, Apartment 4.... Yeah... That one, Yes." He hung up and threw the phone back across the room and moved towards the girl. "Chris, lemme help..." She recoiled into the corner and held her arm to her chest, the blood smearing and staining her clothes. "You can't do this to me, Chris. You can't die..." He reached out for her, but she screamed and smacked the hand away. "No! I have to! I can't take this anymore!" She shouted at him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the corner, and fought her, ignoring all her claws and screams. He pinned her to the ground, restraining her as she tried to thrash from under him. He pressed his hand to her elbow and cut the circulation off and slowed the bloodflow. After a couple minutes of resistance, the girl had no more energy to fight. "Please, Shay... Please let me..." His entire body went rigid as the love of his life begged him to let her die. Her pleas were like knives, puncturing his very sanity with their desires. "No, Crissy," he said as his voice began to crack. "I need you. I need you..." Finally his tears ran over and he began to sob violently. Then the paramedics arrived in a rush; a swarm of them crowding the small apartment, pushing him out of the way and carrying the girl's frail, cold, barely conscience body away from him. The man stood mindlessly. He was scared. He was angry. He was numb. A blood splattered paper caught his attention, and as he read the suicide letter, he broke down and cried.1