by Sierra Graham

Created on: April 23, 2008

Keith Withers couldn't even remember how the fight had started. In the last twenty minutes it evolved from whatever had caused Crystal to start bitching at him into what it was now. One of their arguments to see who could cuss the loudest, and say the worst thing to one another, ultimately to see who could hurt the other the most.

"You could never mean to me what he does." Her voice thick with anger..

Somewhere he'd missed something, but damned if he'd admit that. He'd stay silent and see where she was going with this, though he was sure he knew. Thrusting his hands into his jeans pockets, his left hand felt the cool metal of his knife. His heartbeat begun to accelerate, his stomach knotted, and tremors began to quake in his fingers.

"I've never been in love with you. I'm in love with someone else."

Pain and rage surged through his body. Closing his eyes to block out her words and her face, the tremors took over his body. As he opened his eyes, the sweet smell of her perfume was replaced with an acidic copper smell. His eyes connected with hers, but they longer burned with anger. Pain and disbelief twisted Crystal's face. Lips parted slightly, her brown eyes drifted from his, lowering.

His gaze followed, even though he knew he didn't want to see what was to come.

Red liquid - blood - stained the white t-shirt she wore, traveling down her breast, stomach, darkening her jeans. The knife buried in her chest with his hand still gripping the handle.

He removed the knife from her chest. Her body fell to the grass in slow motion, and he turned from the sight. Walking to his garage, he tried to rid his memory of her words. They echoed in the deep recesses of him mind, replaying and blocking out everything else. Even the music inside the garage did nothing to erase her words and ease the pain and betrayal that they invoked.

Pulling a beer from the cooler, he settled into his chair.

Nothing could be done now. It was out of his hands. Maybe he'd feel regret later, but at this moment rage flowed through his body, not allowing him to feel anything but acceptance. He'd worry about what it all meant later, the consequences, what to do, how to do it. Right now, he was going to enjoy the quiet.

He popped open the can and took a long swig.

Oh, yes. That's how this fight started. He'd wanted to set back and enjoy a few beers and she hadn't wanted him too. Saying he was an alcoholic, and needed to control his consumption. So the fight had been on.

He glanced in Crystal's direction. "Hey, babe. I'm gonna drink a few. All right?"

Silence answered him. That's how it should be.

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