Leaving.

Early morning. My tears have dried now, sticking to my face. The shivering continues. Huge, shuddering, jumping breaths. I pull my knees closer to me, trying to be smaller, pulling myself into the wall behind me. The bed... I can’t look at it. No. Please no.

I scramble towards the door. It’s still open. I take a deep breath. No use. I throw up over the floor. The tears come again thick and fast.

I run out the door and pull it shut. So what now? I think.

Get out of here.

I pick myself up, with a purpose now. I don’t dare go back into the room. Instead, I put on some clothes from the laundry basket. His shirt’s still there. I breathe it in with its familiar smell. Will I ever smell the same scent again?

I go to the hall and get my bag. For a moment, I pause. There are messages on the answering machine. Almost by instinct, I press play.

“Hey, Jo. I won’t be back till late but...”

I hit the delete button. My breath comes out in short gasps. How can I leave him? 

I look at the blood again and leave.

The End

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