When to the sessions of sweet silent thought,
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye (unused to flow)
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe,
And moan th' expense of many a vanished sight.
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee (dear friend)
All losses are restored, and sorrows end.
- Shakespeare, Sonnet 30
Preface
Earth must have stopped rotating, pigs were surely flying everywhere and if Beck looked to his side a little he was sure he would see his own earlobes. It couldn't have taken more than a second, but it felt like years as the knife moved in an neat fashion, cutting a slice in Jade's throat.
How he wished he could say someone was holding him back, someone had stopped him from running towards her, a cowardly silence had crept up on him and he couldn't scream for them to take him instead, his voice had fled him. But nothing was stopping him, yet he couldn't move his limbs, he could only watch as she fell to the ground
Choking and gurgling on the ground, her hand covering the crimson blood that had seeped through her neck, and her hair fanning out against her porcelain skin.
Screams erupted like popcorn in the microwave all around them, sirens filled the air. He didn't know if he had went over to her, or if she had magically appeared in his arms, but Beck suddenly had his girlfriend and the only girl he has ever loved right in his arms, Dying.
