The moon high in the sky, bright as can be with stars dancing in the distance. The wind carries a scent of natural essence. The candles seem to give a certain justice to the bone structure of her face; leaving a shadowy, mysterious expression. I, being my self, carry on a conversation of irrelevant matters. She just sits there staring into my eyes absorbing all that is me.
In my mind I'm thinking of how this is too good to be true. How I've never imagined someone so perfect. Then a chill runs up my spine as her face becomes pale and her eyes widened. A noise echo's off into the remoteness.
Then... no more sounds. No more facial expressions. She fall's over onto the ground and just lays there. My body is stunned. My mind is frozen. Finally, my eyes work their way over to her, and then back to the perpetrator. It was me. The person who killed my only sense of happiness was me. I was the one who ruined the best thing I've ever had. Suddenly, this mirror resemblance of myself turned into regret. I then realized that it wasn't because of her that our relationship had come to an end. It was me and my stubborn ways. I "killed" what we had together.
