I didn't mean to kill her. Blaine lay there. Motionless on my kitchen floor. Her dull eyes stared back at me and I lose it. I fall to the floor, limbs shaking. I try to reach out to her, to comfort her, but I can’t. My limbs don’t seem to respond to my pleas for forgiveness. My vision begins to blur as I make an attempt to call out to her. The tears streamed down my face and the air around me turned black. The only words that echo round my head are ‘sorry’ and ‘please, I didn’t mean it’. Icy hands gripped my arms and legs as I was slowly dragged down further into the darkness.  They were ripping holes in my clothing as they pulled and tugged at me. As we went further down the hands grew more forceful as if hurrying me. Pain shot through my arms and legs as nails drew blood. As we descended the pain grew and grew. Almost becoming unbearable. It made me think back to Blaine. Was this how she felt before she died? I recounted the events in my head that led up to that moment. The trip to the jewelers. The diamond. Coming home, to see her laying there. Empty bottles scattered around the living room. The fight. The knife. The blood. My daughter. She was waiting at day care for her mother to pick her. But she couldn't. Her mother lay on my kitchen floor, lifeless. All I could think about was my daughter as I slowly lost consciousness.

I sit in the car, the small box in my hands. I had done it. I had scrimped and saved up enough money to get this. The ring. It was beautiful, perfect for her. My girlfriend. My soon-to-be fiancé. I look towards the door. I had wanted to do this for so long. To marry her. It was only a moment away. I get out and walk into the house. I hear the television going and walk into the living room. There she is. Empty alcohol bottles littering the room. The television playing a romantic drama. I move in front of the tv and she finally notices my presence.

"Hey, honey. You mind moving so I can see?" I stay in place frowning.

"Where's Mika?" She looks up, dazed.

"Who?" 

She smirks and picks up another bottle of alcohol from the pile around her. I'm shocked. This woman forgets her own daughter.

"Get out." 

If she couldn't be bothered to look after her own daughter, then I couldn't be bothered to keep her around.

"What?" 

She looks shocked. I couldn't believe it. She forgets her daughter, she has no job, no house. Instead, it seems, all she does all day is watch romantic dramas and drink away my money. To think I had wanted to marry this woman. Guess I really was blinded by love.

"Get out!" I scream, "Now!" This scares her, and she gets up.

She starts yelling but I don't care. I just go and walk down the hall. I pass by the kitchen and head to my daughter’s room. It was empty. All that was in there was her crib and the few toys I had gotten her. She wasn't here. Which means she is still at daycare. This makes my blood boil. I stomp back down the hall to see my now ex-girlfriend standing in the kitchen doorway with a knife. She was fuming. Alcohol and anger do not make a good mix. I push past her and walk into the kitchen. 

"I thought I told you to get out." I state. 

This seems to upset her as she starts screaming.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do in my own house, you deadbeat!" 

It's my house. I'm the one going to work. I'm the one paying for everything. All the toys. The daycare. The alcohol that had, apparently, been bought without my knowledge. Regardless of these she went on berating me with all the things I had apparently done that made me a bad father and boyfriend. All I did was stand and glare. Of course, that set her off again. This time instead of verbally attacking me, she decides to get physical. She rushes at me, clumsily, in her drunken state, swinging the knife around hoping to cut in any place at all. I grip her arm and that's when the mayhem starts. All I could see was skin and flashes of metal. The fight continues for a short while before I slowly back off. I breathe heavily and took in my surroundings. I look down and see her, my ex-girlfriend, in a puddle of blood. Her own blood. The knife by her side, discarded.

I awoke to find myself laying down in front of a cathedral. I don't remember how I got here or even falling asleep. I'm sitting outside surrounded by graves. I stand up and dust myself off before looking around. It feels like a horror movie. The faint fog. The creepy graves. The eerie chill that seeps into your very being. I hate it. In an attempt to get out of the cold I walk towards the cathedral in hopes of getting in.

This poor helpless man. He's so distraught and vulnerable. Perfect. I glance beside me at the small child playing nearby. Such a shame. People these days don't seem to care about their loved ones at all. It's awful. Oh well. More subjects for me. The door opens and there he stands. That poor man. I smirk. Now the fun is going to begin.

He staggers in. That idiot probably injured him. I'll have to deal with that later. Anyway his stumbling speeds up as he notices his precious daughter playing beside me.

"Mika!" He calls out. The child notices him. So that's the kids name. This will be more amusing than I thought. I put a hand out in front of the child, blocking her from reaching her father. The father stopped moving and finally registered my existence. He stared. Typical.

"Wha..., who a-are y-y-you?" He stuttered. Hilarious. I smirked. Here was a random man holding his daughter back, of course he was gonna question my existence. I sighed and rolled my eyes, my smirk disappearing as I noticed his stance. He was trying to act in control but the wobbly legs and shaking voice gave away that he was scared beyond belief. Annoying. May as well get this whole ordeal over and done with.

"You seem like a smart man," This caused him to refocus his attention on me. "How 'bout I offer you a deal?"