Scalding water burns my naked body, waking me. “Oh fuck,” I moan in pain. I’m in the bath. I push through the fog, my last memory in bed, making love.
My breathing hitches as the red water moves around me. Blood, everywhere. Splattered up the tiles. I try getting out, but my body’s a dead weight.
I search the room. The knife in hand, the twisted turn of the lips. The one that explored my body just that morning.
A scream escapes as I watch blood pump from my wrists.
How could I have been so wrong? Why didn’t I listen?