The rest seemed to go by in slow motion, the hospital , the police, the questioning. 'Flat-lined in the ambulance, couldn't bring her back.''Flat-lined in the ambulance, couldn't bring her back.''Flat-lined in the ambulance, couldn't bring her back.' Gone, gone, gone, everything was leaving, numbness consuming her. Her eyes unfocused and---why?
"Are you sure your going to be alright?" Officer Keating asked.
Alright, she didn't know, conscious and living, no matter how much she despised it right now, yes. Never the less, Stacy nodded her head and proceeded to get out of the car, not bothering to look back. She walked up stairs in a trance, a feeling of anger welled up inside her as soon as she looked through the doorway of her bedroom.
Mark and some bimbo in her bed, their bed. Her fists shook with anger and she stomped into the room, taking the nearest lamp she threw it against the wall, watching red faced as it shattered to pieces. Mark'as head jerked up and the first thing his face made contact with was Stacy's hand.
"HOW could you do this Mark, how?" She screamed. Going to the closet she pulled out a suit case and began violently shoving clothes in it.
"Stacey I---"
"WHAT, can explain," She yelled from the closet, "Whats your excuse, we were having a sleep over, if so I'm not even good enough to invite now,"
Mark struggled into his boxers and went to the closet, gasping when he saw her. There was a thin line of stitches across the crown of her head, and an even smaller line across her bottom lip. Her eye was all puffy and turning dark shades of black and blue.
"Sweety wha---"
"DON'T CALL ME SWEETY," She growled, "And don't touch me, how could you do this?"
"Oh cut the crap Stacy, we both know you slept with that--gimp."
She couldn't believe this was happening right now, the world was spinning her in circles. She needed to leave, to get away.
"-- I knew it the minute you--"
"Mark I want a divorce," She said, barely above a whisper. Mark blinked his eyes in confusion.
"What?"
"I want, a divorce"