We met at our secret place. “I was her one and only,” Susie always said. I was consumed with the drunkenness of passion whenever she came near. My limbs would tense, I felt fire in my soul. But one night she said, “We can be no more.” She took off my ring and dropped it onto the blanket. Devoured by the beasts of hurt and anger. I slapped her across her lovely face that I truly loved, then grabbed her swan-like throat and squeezed until my fingers were aching and I could squeeze no more. I let go. She fell to my feet. I drove away.

At home, I tried to sleep but couldn't. My heart kept knocking. I could only stare into the blackness. Suddenly, she emerged. Fearful revulsion flashed into my head. She was next to my bed, even though I knew I had killed her. There was a heavy weight on my chest. I looked up and saw a vengeful smirk, her knees pressing down, her hands grasping my throat. A terrible pain shot down my arm. An iron taste swilled in my throat. A bright light. She pointed the way. And then my heart gave out.