As I stand on the rooftop, 22 in hand, pointed at her, my aim so unflinching I could probably shoot with my eyes shut and still hit her dead in the chest; I have a smile on my face. She's so fun to torture. I can stand here with my gun, stare at her straight in the eyes, and break her down to tears, just like that. That ability of mine fills me with adrenaline and dominance for once in my life. I believe I have finally found my calling. I'm a sick, twisted, sadistic person. I've gotten over it, now I take it as a compliment. Now I can hear her whimpering over on the edge of the rooftop. The winds have really picked up today. I can see her tears behind the thick mop of red hair billowing around her delicate face. I took the smallest step towards her and her left foot backed her up to the very edge. She leaned her head to the left and looked down the 32-floor drop. I saw a tear roll down her cheek and fall to the ground.
"Why are you doing this?" She asks me, refusing to look eye to eye with me.

"Honest answer?"

"Please."

"Because I'm a sick twisted sadistic person and you somehow made the mistake of falling in love with them. But the thing that's going to kill you is that you let me fall in love with you two."

"Why is that a bad thing?"

"No one should have to deal with me. I'm saving you the heartache. I am not deserving of love. If killing you is the only way I can punish myself then so be it."

"But what makes you undeserving of love?"

"Everything; you of all people should know."

Now she's teasing me. She already knows my past, and she knows how mind works. She's the only person that has ever been able to make me feel right and human for once. She's the only person who can find a way to see into my heart. No one else ever will be able to. I can't have that though. The stuff that's happened to me is what has made me the way I am. I don't deserve to be alive. Suicide is a thought that crosses my mind quite often, but every time it does I decide that's taking the easy way out. I'll never take the easy way out ever again. It just got me into a bad place with the wrong people.

"But why do you have to kill me?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out isn't it? I have an idea for you. I'll grant you one last wish, but it must take place right here on this rooftop. Anything you want,"

"Then, tell me you love me. You never did. Kiss me goodbye, make me feel home when you kill me…"

"And yet, I always have. I love you," I told her. I walked up to her with my hand on the trigger and looked into her eyes, beautiful, as always. I brought my free hand to her face and stroked her cheekbone. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. A stray hair was splayed across her face so I pushed it behind her ear and cupped my hand around the back of her head. I brought my face forward and kissed her with every ounce of passion left. I stopped, and brought my hand back to her cheekbone.

"I love you," she whispered to me as I put pressure on the trigger. She began to smile.

"I love you too, nothing will ever change that."

"Thank you," she spoke. My finger pressed the final centimeter down on the trigger and a resounding shot was heard. Soon after, flowing from my mouth came, "Within his bending sickle's compass come," and her body began to fall backwards. "Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks," I now spoke. I walked to the edge to see her body gliding downwards and I screamed over the edge as loud as I could, "But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved."