I smell it before I see it, its metallic.
Metallic colors flood my mind then, I see red.
Red on the floor, liquid.
Liquid flows, makes a pool.
//Pool; in this game two began but one is gone, still here but lying on the floor.//
Floor, wooden squeaks as I walk to where the blood began its journey.
//Journeys; sometimes the travelers don't know when it begins, they surely know the ending.//
Ending halfway there, I stoop to see the body.
Body slashed at several places, an attempt to carve out his heart.
Heart, wait, is it a he?
//He lies still but his eyes flutter, I feel like I'm invading his privacy watching him bleed.//
Bleed all over the polished wooden floor till the rug at the centre of the room soaks it in, let me worry about the stain since its all I can do about the blood.
Blood keeps spreading, the cracks in the floor drinking some and somehow it gets to my feet though I have been frozen to a spot, observing.
//observing heartbreak from afar//
Afar off I see his heart in his right hand, I gasp because somehow its still beating.
Beating like hope flapped its wings crying out from Pandora's box, just like old times.
//Times when plan 'B' was recovery//
Recovery began when our eyes locked and he saw me standing in some miraculous way but in my hand was a weapon made of the same thing that had him on the floor, barely breathing.
Breathing as he shared his story with nothing but my eyes.
//Eyes before heart, they really are windows so show them what's inside before you open the door to let them in//
In his vacant eyes do I realize that he had carved his heart for someone he barely knew and frightened from what she had seen, bless her, left him here for he was worth dead than alive...
//Alive is his heart, a witness to this suicide.//