(A.N. just the first little bit, still a work in progress :) hope you enjoy!)

The tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared up at the blood splattered ceiling. I blinked a couple of times to clear my head, a small sob escaping my throat as u heard the door being thrown open. I couldn't make out what the voices said, but I could see the police team in their protective Armour, guns raised. What happens now? I have nothing left. I am broken, in more ways than one. I lost everything to the fire of passion, and in a desperate attempt to gain it back, jumped into the flames.
I made one bad decision, one that could have changed everything. I agreed to everything, absolutely everything he said until the very end. And then I listened to it, the little voice in the back of my head that told me I could fix it, that I could make it all right again. But it lied. It told me I would be safe, I would feel better, but now I am empty. I thought I was empty before, having lost all of my inner self, but now I am void of even anger. I just can't quite pull the loose edges of my thoughts together, can't make my self whole again, can't remember how I got this far. What happened? What did I do? What did he do? I wonder if I'll ever remember, or if someone will tell me before my brain rots away any further.
When I first met him, he was a mystery. No one knew the full extent of his past, and yet everyone wanted to know. It was dark, it was gory, and he told only me the real events of the night his parents were murdered, and the torture of everyday life began. He was a lost soul, as most people put it, but I think he was simply the lost part of an even more disturbed, and frightened soul. I thought he had bared himself to me, shown me everything about himself, until that one mistake. I thought he was strong, powerful, but kind. How wrong I was.