Alone

Short story I wrote not much meaning or anything just something I wrote up in my freetime when I was feeling a little down.

There was nothing left but the bitter smell of gun powder, the house had been raided and there she was lying lifeless. Her eyes bulging out, a blank expression of shock and terror on her face. It was the last time I would see her, I hadn't asked for this but it was the only thing keeping me going. She had been too far gone and all I could do was sit idly by and watch her throw herself to the wolves.
Staring at her cold dead body I light up a smoke, kneeling down beside her. I didn't know how I felt, it was just a series of bleak mixed emotions, I didn't shed any tears, I wasn't sure if I could. There she sat in front of me, the girl I had fallen for, the girl who had taken my life bit by bit and now she was gone. Her final breath something I couldn't be here to see, I was too late. I kept telling myself it wouldn't matter how much I comforted her in her final moments, the bitterness in her heart would just push me away. She'd breathe out another sob story singing her guilt songs with her dying breath, and I'd be stuck here guilted believing her words no matter how false they were.
Accusation after accusation was shed unto me, yet I stayed. Was that true love, no it wasn't more like infatuation or something. True love is between both partners thru and thru. She was like a cigarette each drag keeping you addicted, each drag making you want another, each one killing you more slowly pushing its thick cancers on your heart and in your lungs. I wasn't in love with her, I was addicted to her. It shared simillarities to love but the emotion was never there, maybe that's why I wasn't crying.
Someone had finally had enough of her s**t, her deceitful ways finally getting the best of her. Someone had the guts to tell her know, maybe a little too much guts to end things the way whoever did this had ended it. I was looking back asking myself questions that would never find answers. Sometimes I wanted to put her thru what she was doing to me, but they say to wrongs make a right. Others claim two negatives make a positive, but are you really the better person when you reflect on what they do to you? Or is it not so, perhaps acting towards them doesn't make things better, sure it gives you much needed comfort knowing they suffer as well but why sink to such levels just for your own solemn comfort?
Ah I didn't give a damn anymore, what was done is done. All I really wished was that she was at least still alive. Now it seemed I had the strength to push her away but hell throw some figures at me if I had arrived here and she hadn't been so dead, I probably would have been putting myself in the same damn situation I had always been in.
Her life wasn't ended for no reason, there had to be a reason. It had been ended because it had been wasted on nothing else, it was going no where evolving into nothing, God had reached his hand out and disbanded her from the circle of life he just used the culprit as a scape goat. So not to get his own hands dirty he handed the job off to a lesser known evil.
I had to trek on with my own life, all our good and bad times tattooed on the back of my minds eye. I finall shed a few tears for her, maybe I did love her, maybe I didn't I'm still not sure. All I'm sure of is in the end no matter the s**t I went thru I still miss her, the only person who gave somewhat of a damn about me now she's gone and I really don't know what to do. Life changes in a flash and the demons show their ugly faces clearer than, than they ever do throughout your whole life.
This was it, no choices left. I stood up turned my back on her body called the authorities and left it all to be solved by them, I'd learn the rest of the story thru the media coverage.
 

Author's Note

So what do you think?