I walked through the valley, silent as usual. The lights were all out, but I didn't need them where I was going.
I walked up the path, eager yet slowly. I began to wonder what she was doing. At this hour, she was probably sleeping. When I finally reached the clearing, I stopped to take in her progress.
When I was last here, the farm was full of life and prospered. Now, the fields were empty and lifeless. A single tombstone lay near the doghouse.
I crept up to the window to watch her. Inside, she slept on her -our- bed. In a cradle nearby slept our daughter, Isabelle. She had hair like snow and eyes like strawberries. I sighed and returned my attention to Jill.
Her chocolate hair was like a halo circling her head. Her arms were folded on her chest, and on her nightstand was a bottle of depression pills.
"You need to stop!" she yelled, dragging me outside so she wouldn't wake Isabelle.
"It is my hobby," I argued. She shook her head, scowling.
"I love you," she said, "and the last time, they nearly caught you."
I stepped through the closed window and walked over to her bed. I rested my hand on hers for a while, until she began to sigh. She started wriggling, and for a second I thought she would try to hold me. Her arm went right through me.
"There he is!" a man yelled. I grabbed a few more plates and started to devise my escape.
"Get him," a woman screamed. A cracking sound came from above me, and I looked up in time to see the roof collapse.
Then it was over.
"Goodbye, my love," I said, as I slipped into the otherworld, my hand still resting on hers.