I look at the pool of blood under his body, his lifeless, broken body. Trust is sometimes the the most wicked thing in the world. I trusted Kavin, but he murderd the only person I cared about. The only person who cared about _me_.

I keep on telling myself he isn’t really dead, but his chest isn’t rising and pulse is gone.

I fell to my knees in sobs, and I whisper in his cold ear, “I will not walk this earth without you.”