Dangerous? What did he mean? I tried to get out but the door was locked. He was already driving, anyway. The trees would have looked so pretty in the snow if it weren’t for the situation. My mind was not clear.

“Yeah, too dangerous,” he said, as if he could read my thoughts. “We’re not good for each other.”

I knew that. I’ve known that. Just, it was hard to face. He’s making me face it now, I guess. I remain silent.

“Nothing to say, huh?” He looks over at me. I remain still, vibrating with the speed of the car.

“Well, this ends tonight,” he shouts as he drives the car from the cliff. He dies when we hit the water; I don’t die again. He already killed me days ago.

He’s right: our relationship was too dangerous for the both of us.