Murder.

And it’s on my hands. I was doomed from the start of time; the time when my fingers twisted themselves in your hair, burning into your memory. Kisses as smooth as sand, yet as dangerous as the ocean during a storm.

You whispered in my ear: “Nothing is ever quite the same with you.” Your lips closed around mine and the world roared up in flames, thunder cackled down at us, the rain beat us numb. Beat us until there was nothing left.

I watched you slip and fall down the slippery slope... I tried to catch you, believe me, I did. But I was too late, my hands closed on air. I didn’t see it coming, no.

But when the storm calmed and the ocean fell silent, I came to realize what I’d done. Life without you- the ocean without its storm.