Before- The Ending

       Her eyes flashed a challenge; anger and hurt alternately sparkling in them as she took in the dark room and remembered the date, 15th June.

      'I knew you'd be here.'

      'Emma, cant you just shut up, and leave me alone?' He slowly closed his eyes with forced patience.

      'I should have expected that, it was always her, even now when she's dead.'
      Irrational rage brewed within him alongside the inky tide of rising hate, and the glass in his hand flew across the room shivering to broken shards against the wall.

      'She's dead! Dead Gone! do I have no right to grieve for her? I knew her my whole life, for Christ's sake!'

      Emma looked at the broken glass and didn't answer.

      'What do you expect me to do? throw a party?' He pursed. ' She was my best friend.'
      For a moment , she looked at him in silence. 'Do you want to stop living too? We can't bring back the dead by mourning them forever.' She paused , 'its been four years.' She turned away, and when she spoke there was only the sluggish residue of anger and the dismal realisation that they were bound only in sorrow; he, to his regret and she, to her dark jealousy of a world of memories that he would never let her enter.

      'You didn't just know Jazmyn your whole life; you loved her your whole life.'

The door slammed behind her.

      He picked up a piece of broken glass, holding it up to the fading light from the window. Its sharp edge cut into his skin, and he watched blood and fallen tears mingle, reflected in the light as rubious diamonds, in a moment of detached appreciation.

      He was aware of the finality of what had happened by indulging in the pain was just easier.

******"taken from US magazine November 7th edition 2010"******

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