She's Gone

Anon

I see her, sitting across from me. Her blue eyes dead, not full of life as usual. Her blond hair looks ragged and is too dry to the touch. Silence surrounds us as the butchers move in. I still can't believe it, it can't be true. Someone drapes a blanket across my shoulders and presses a bandage against my arm, funny I didn't realise I'd been hit. No one is talking, whether because of my presence or because they have nothing to say, I don't know, but I don't care either. Part of my life has ended, it has been ripped away from me, someone pulled out my heart and stamped on it as they pulled the trigger, as soon as the bullet hit her it was like someone had reached into my gut and pulled my insides out through my mouth. I know that that image will haunt me forever more. Funny I don't even care that I've killed someone for the first time, all that matters is that she's gone, stolen away from me. No one has even taken my gun away from me yet, God how easy would it be to end it here and now, just a squeeze of the trigger that's all it would take, to reunite us. Fraser rests his hand on my shoulder and quietly asks for my gun, I don't hear him, I just read his actions, sometimes I think he's psychic, he always knows what I'm thinking, but I don't dwell on this, because she's gone and that's all that matters.