• Billowing, dark clouds lingered ominously overhead. Kanter walked forward, feeling the heavy weight of the tools in his tense hands. His eyes, black and almost devoid of sanity, swept the yard, looking towards the yellow garage that contained his meaning for being. That meaning was taken away from him; jealous creatures had defiled her, forever changing her in Kanter's mind. Beatrice was all he had ever loved and forever will. The only solution to end all the torture, to remove the picture from his mind, was to remove her. To end her was to end it all.

    Filled with sorrowful resolve, he reached the brick walkway leading up to the door. The wind picked up, blowing against him as if to prevent the inevitable sacrifice. He heard in his head, the words his mother had told him mere hours ago. “She will live, she is not dying.” Breathing deep, he reached for the handle, opening the door just to close another. He stepped inside, turning towards his personal sun exploded.

    On a table lay a beautiful, tan skinned girl. Her brown curls spiraled down to her shoulders around the small read hole at the base of her neck. A deep, crimson liquid gently oozed out, trickling down onto the table. Beatrice gasped for air, crying in pain as she tried to form words. “Kanter, don't.” The words were barely a whisper. “I-I love you. P-please!” Quiet tears streamed from her eyes. She continued to beg, “don't do this.”

    Didn't she understand? There was no choice. He had to do it. It would solve everything. No more suffering, no more torture. He loved her so much, this was the only way. His inhuman eyes betrayed no sign off uncertainty as he raised the wooden stake and mallet. “Don't worry love. I am the most important thing in your life and you are the most important thing in mine. It seems right that I should be the one to take it.”

    “Take what?” Beatrice mouthed, unable to produce sound.

    “Your life.”

    The gasping increased, her eyes wide as she continued to stare at his upraised hands. Slowly Kanter placed the stake in the hole, bringing the mallet to rest atop of it. Beatrice did not resist, having already lost the strength and the will to fight him. He brought his arm up, swinging the mallet with it and struck the stake with a strong force. He drove it in all the way with three strikes. A strange gurgling noise seeped through the hole, as well as a generous amount of the dark, life-sustaining blood. Beatrice's breathing slowed to a stop and her eyes closed on the tears still present in her eyes.

    “I love you,” Kanter whispered to the body of his true love. He bent down to kiss the lips he would never kiss again and walked out the door. He kept the mallet with him until he got to the front of his house where he placed it in the bushes. He walked towards the forest, the storm slamming the open door against the building that had haunted Kanter's mind...what was left of it.

    Gasping for air, I awake with tears streaming down my face. The atmosphere of the dream lingers as I sob into my hands, calling his name. I wait, shudders escaping my control as I imagine the hands will never touch my face, hearing the words that will never be said to comfort me. No one reminds me that it was all a dream.