*I decided to use “the knife belongs to me” in the last sentence rather than the first and in my own way*

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The rain hit the window as my tears hit the ground. “Just a little bit longer, please.” I cried while the warm red liquid ran down my hands as squeezed his shirt. He looked at me with pain and pity in his eyes. “It’s okay, Penelope” he muttered weakly. I began to add more pressure to his wound, hoping that it would somehow stop the blood flow. But it just kept coming.

“Please” I begged, “just a little while longer, the ambulance should be here in a couple of minutes, you just need to stay awake for a little while longer jack” I bawl. “just a little while longer”

He then grab my blood soaked hands and moved them into his. He squeezed them as hard as he could then dropped them like a bag of rocks. His eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a weak sigh of relief.

The sky then fell silent, and the birds quit singing. My head hit my knees, and the world began spinning. I almost instantly lost all control of my words. “I love you so much Jack, so much” I sobbed, then began to stand, making my way slowly over to the water fountain near the swings. When I reached it, I scrubbed my hands and clothes as hard as I could, but the blood stained everything. Everything.

I stood there for a second in disbelief but I was interrupted by the sounds of police sirens. I make my way back to Jack as the ambulance pulls right onto the grass. I can see the EMT’s running to his help with a stretcher and body bag.

I grabbed his hand once more and said my final goodbyes. “Jackson Lee Culver, I love you with my whole heart and soul. I’ve always loved you and forever will. I never told you before because I knew you loved her more, I had very slim chances of winning you over. But now my chances are up and you are gone, and that is worse than being told you don’t love me, because now ill never know.”

An EMT then grabbed my shoulder and shoved me out the way and started screaming strict orders to the others. I then was approached by a couple of officers with handguns and cuffs. Screaming more orders, but this time in my direction. I threw my hands up and dropped the knife. I then am cuffed and thrown into the back of a police car with plastic seats and no handles. I watch as they lift Jack onto the stretcher and out of the park.

An older cop, known around town, then approached me with a mountain of questions I had no intention of answering. I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t plan it, it just kind of happened.

My mother always told me I loved to hard and to much for anyone. He asked questions like “when did this all start?” and who’s knife did you use?” They had simple answers I wasn’t willing to give up. It started with the lies he told of loving me, and finished with the deadly truth behind them all. I replied to his questions about my weapon of choice, “and the knife is mine, it belongs to me.”