She told me she loved me.

Five o’clock, the sun burning our eyes as we sat leaning against the chain link fence looking out on the playground.

She said, “I love you.”

I was moving my hand to pick a dandelion, just grasping the stem between two fingers when she touched my hand.

“I love you.”

I heard the words, I felt them rush through me like cider. bubbling and sizzling and warm. But I couldn’t look at her. I pulled the dandelion free from its tangle of grass and leaves.

“I love you.”

Again as I carefully placed the flower behind her ear, avoiding eye contact as I did. I blushed, and immediately turned my head. I didn’t know how to respond. What do I say in response to such forward affection? Such blatant-

“Ellie, I love you.”

Warm breath in my ear, blood pounding in my chest and in my head, tears stinging behind my eyes.

“Ori,….”

I squeaked. Trying to talk without sobbing. It was hard.

“It’s okay Ellie, you don’t have to-“

“I love you Ori.”

Silence. Stillness. An arm around my back and her head fitting into the crook of my neck. I caught hold of her shoulder and pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her back,

“I love you.”

I whispered into her hair.

Her breathing was steady, even. It seemed like she could stay in my arms until the end of her days.

And she would.

“I’m sorry.”

I let the end of the knife fall out of my sleeve and into my hand. Grasping it, polished wood grinding into the underside of my knuckles I held it so tight, I brought it to her neck.

She lifted her head from my chest and looked at me. Her nose an inch away from mine, her eyes staring into mine like a child gazes at the stars.

I bear down on the blade. A warm stream runs from the wound and into my fingers.

She kisses me, my chin, the left side of my jaw.

“I knew all along that this is how it would end.”

With a sob I cut deep, struggling against flesh and nerves until I hit hard bone. She immediately falls limp against me.

I push her off with a scream. I cling to the knife and stab my thigh, once, twice, three times. It burns, my flesh shrieking and it feels good.

“IM SORRY!”

I wail as I press my arm against my wounds, trying to slow the bleeding.

Dizzy, blood, blood all over me. All over my hands and my shirt. I can’t see straight.

Then it goes dark.