The third scream is one we'd all rather forget; rather lose to the world in the hopes of burning those flashbacks in the flames of our pyrite happiness. You guess correctly, no prizes: tonight I scream a scream of death. The torment has outwaited me across the millennia, and at long last, I have tired of this cat-and-mouse game. It sapped my strength like gum from the bark, like a baby's mouth from the nursing bottle. It feeds my fear and fans my hateful embers until today - the day I choose to lose. So this virgin dagger will be raped tonight, by the rusted hope of a better death. Just know that I love you more than the stars you showed me. Or perhaps 'did' will be a better word by the time you read these.
(Goodbye, Doctor).