His hand shook as he set the pen across the freshly written paper—an enclosure of his deepest thoughts that he could never voice aloud. A finality that was meant to serve as his st goodbye.

  It all felt so permanent, yet it was how it had to be. He couldn’t go on like this anymore—not even if she would have wanted him to. The mask of pretense felt suffocating, and he realized he hadn’t truly lived for years. Two years had passed since that fateful night, but it felt like an eternity.

  Time had lost all meaning for him; not since his girlfriend was murdered in a shootout on the streets two years ago. Something that wasn't even supposed to happen. This was London, you had more knife attacks than shoot outs, but it didn't change the fact that it had happened all the same.

  He had been running te—stopping to get a corsage to ensure everything was perfect for their evening together. He had made her favorite meal and was just finishing up when he texted her, promising to arrive in ten minutes.

  Who could have imagined that tragedy would strike just five minutes after that message was sent?

  Her st response—a message he repyed in his mind daily for those two years—felt like an endless cycle of torment, reminding him of the st thing she typed to him.

  He looked down at his phone, silent tears streaming from his eyes onto the screen. He had tried to move on. Zaelyn had gone through the recommended grief counseling, but none of their suggestions provided soce or comfort.

  Zaelyn:

  Running te, be there to get you in ten. Love you.

  Natalie:

  I swear, you’re going to be te for your own funeral. ; -) You’re lucky you're cute. See you in ten. ??

  READ

  He picked up his phone and began to type a message—something he hadn’t had the courage to do for two years. Not that she would ever see it, but he thought maybe it would ease his mind before he left.

  Zaelyn:

  It’s been two years. Two years tonight, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. You’re a constant thought, a reason I’ve forced myself to move forward, but I can’t. I take one step forward and ten steps back. I was going to ask you to marry me, you know? Mum always said our retionship was just young, dumb love, but I know it wasn’t. We met at Kensington Park when we were kids, then we started primary school and went through secondary school together. I’ve realized that you’re in every word I say, in everything I do. We celebrated so much together that these past two years have felt like pure hell. And what’s worse? The person responsible for your death was already released. Justice is a joke, and it feels like your life wasn’t worth anything. The judge called for your murderer’s release—but I can’t help but think you would have forgiven him. You always did forgive those who didn’t deserve it. I still have that picture of you from Halloween five years ago. I can close my eyes and see your face as clearly as I could two years ago. It feels as if it all happened yesterday. Your eyes are burned into my memory, and your smile is something I’m dying to see again. I know that once I achieve what I’m about to do, I will finally rest with you and be forever in your embrace. I can be happy and free. Knowing that brings me peace.

  Sent

  Precipitant unavaible. Message not sent.

  Zaelyn paused, contempting for a moment before typing one st thing.

  Zaelyn:

  I know you wouldn’t want me to do this, but I’ve tried everything to hold on. I’ve done my best to move forward, but you’ve always been a part of me. Knowing that I had a piece of you connected to me when you died has haunted me. How can everyone expect me to move on? You’re everything that I am and have always been. It wasn't just some fleeting, pointless love. Mum was wrong. Even she can’t convince me that this was temporary. You were my life. Just like you will be my salvation in death. Together, we will never be apart—come Heaven or Hell; it will be us forever.

  See you soon, Nat. I love you. -Zaelyn-

  Sent

  Precipitant unavaible. Message not sent.

  He sighed, knowing her parents had cut off her phone a month after her death. He still kept their text messages, holding onto the pictures she’d sent him—innocent or artsy, some of her smiling, others capturing her culinary disasters as she attempted to cook.

  Tears silently fell as he gnced at the st picture she’d sent him.

  It was her in her favorite pink dress, making a pyful kissing motion with her lips.

  At the bottom, it simply read:

  I love you. Now, forever and always.

  He sniffed away his sadness, allowing a sense of peace to wash over his soul. The thought of being reunited with her filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. Everything would be over soon, and happiness awaited him on the other side.

  He was done waiting for it here on Earth. It didn’t exist, so what was the point of prolonging his suffering?

  With a heavy sigh, he stood from his desk, leaving his st letter and phone on top. His mum would know right away; he'd called and left a message thanking her for being such an amazing person—even if she remained optimistic about his life turning around after Natalie’s passing. Zaelyn had tried grief counseling, fulfilling his promise to his mum in making the effort, but nothing eased his pain or yearning. He wanted what he no longer had, and nothing satisfied that insatiable need; nothing could ever come close.

  Natalie had been special; no one could ever repce her.

  She was the very definition of alluring. At five foot eight, she commanded every room with a graceful poise that effortlessly drew people’s attention. Her long, soft chestnut-brown hair cascaded past her mid-back, naturally curving at the ends as if it were meant to be. All her friends were envious, especially since she didn’t need makeup to achieve her natural beauty.

  Everything about her was perfect, but the most breathtaking feature of all was her deep-sky eyes. They radiated kindness and compassion, reflecting every emotion with striking crity. Those eyes sparkled with adventure and complemented her high cheekbones, which seemed to blush naturally. Her body wasn’t toned but rather slim and beautifully developed.

  Zaelyn referred to her as his little stick figure. She fit perfectly in his arms; the way he could hug her close and feel her melt against his chest was like finding the perfect puzzle piece. She was his absolute ideal, and he was her protective shadow. He caught her every time she fell, wanting to make her a part of his life forever—and now, he would.

  After all, "until death do us part" didn’t have to mean forever; it could mean until life began anew. Perhaps next time, he would take the bullet for her so that she could live.

  That’s what you do when you love someone.

  That’s what he should have done, and would have, had he just been a little earlier. If only he had… perhaps she’d be the one here and he’d be the one underground.

  But to know for sure, he would have to leave this world behind to find out.

  If anything awaited him—maybe Heaven or Hell, God or the devil—perhaps it was all just a wild story. It would suck if he were leaving to go nowhere, if it all were for nothing, but he was willing to die for that chance.

  Zaelyn would do anything to see Natalie again—even if just for a moment, to tell her he loved her.

  With a nervous swallow, Zaelyn picked up the noose he had fashioned from the white silk rope, slipping it over his neck with a shaky breath. He positioned the double knot toward the base of his neck, hoping for a quick end.

  He cleared the tears from his eyes, stepping up onto his chair and securing the noose around the ceiling fan.

  The rope was smaller, ensuring that the knot would grow tighter without much give when he kicked the chair from beneath him. Larger knots sometimes hindered a clean neck break, whereas this smaller rope provided a better option.

  Zaelyn had to consider his height. Standing at six foot three and weighing a hundred and forty pounds, he had dramatically lost weight. Once, he had weighed 160 pounds, but the st two years had stripped him of not just his girlfriend but his appetite and need to eat. He had slid into a modified transformation without even realizing it.

  Depression had taken hold, keeping his figure lean. He retained average muscle mass, enough to give him strength in his arms. His bare chest was now shaven; he had cleaned himself up, wanting to look his best for when he would reunite with Natalie.

  Just the thought of that reunion gave him a flicker of anticipation. He hadn’t felt excitement about anything in two long years, and tonight he would finally see her and hear her voice. He would find happiness, and no one could take that away from him.

  Taking another shaky breath, he stepped up onto the chair that would help him achieve his goal. His hands trembled uncontrolbly as he tied the ends of the noose around the ceiling fan, making sure to adjust for his height and praying the fan could bear his weight.

  Zaelyn was a striking figure in his own right; six foot three, a mesmerizing blend of strength and sensitivity. He was kind and generous, often buying groceries for strangers, though he hadn’t done so in the st two years. What was the point of helping others, especially when they had stood by and done nothing to save Natalie? They had merely watched her bleed out. The beauty he once saw in people had been repced by a sense of entitlement.

  One person had even recorded Natalie as she y there, her hands reaching upwards for help.

  Zaelyn refused to help those parasites. For all he cared, they could starve. He could spare the money, but they had never bothered to spend their time helping his dying loved one. No one cared anymore, and he wasn’t going to pretend that good people existed because they weren’t there when he needed them.

  “At least where I’m going, I won’t have to share air with useless assholes,” Zaelyn thought bitterly.

  He ran a hand through his light brown hair, its silky strands falling in tousled waves, capturing the light in such a way that it almost looked caramel. Dark circles hinted at sleepless nights beneath his almond-shaped eyes, which highlighted his expressive features. His irises, a rich forest green, gleamed like emeralds resting on the seabed.

  Holding the whole package together was a frail body that had given up caring. He had become skinnier and frailer; still muscur, but it didn’t account for the foodless days and the struggle to care enough to drink. He was pale from ck of sunlight; yet despite it all, Zaelyn Ravenwood had given it his all. He had tried to move on, but the loss of his girlfriend left a constant wound, especially since he still clung to the ring he intended to give her—a symbol of their forever unfulfilled promise.

  It y in his pocket. He would ask her to marry him when he saw her again. Surely Heaven, or even Hell, as outrageous as it felt, must have weddings. After all, the Bible made a big deal about it, right? And surely there was something about not coveting thy neighbor’s wife—even if that didn’t quite apply to his situation.

  He paused for a moment, a chuckle escaping the back of his throat as he stood poised on the chair, his lean body reaching over to finalize the knot and secure the other end around his neck. With any luck, it would be a clean break.

  He had learned from a documentary that the hangman’s noose was meant to rest just at the base of the neck to best align with the second vertebra—an optimal spot. When the spinal cord was compressed, it caused asphyxiation, and if the injury was severe enough, especially to the C2 vertebrae, it could compromise blood flow to the brain.

  When that was paired with the cutting off of the carotid artery, death could occur in just a few short minutes; consciousness often faded only seconds after the initial hanging.

  At least, Zaelyn hoped so. He didn’t want to remain aware of the suffering; he wanted to see Natalie and be happy again.

  She was his euphoria, his sole reason for living. Each second away from her felt like a knife twisting in his gut, and two years stretched endlessly with that kind of pain.

  His jaded eyes closed, feeling the noose sit loosely around his neck. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to say a prayer—perhaps in case he owed God an apology for being wrong about what y beyond.

  His lips moved silently, the prayer dragging on until his breath caught. He hesitated, standing there with his leg extended off the chair.

  Taking another quick breath, he stepped off, kicking the chair from beneath him.

  Almost in slow motion, he felt the knot slip into pce, tightening around his neck. Panic surged through him as nausea overwhelmed his senses; his eyes widened with arm as he struggled to take in air—fingers cwing at the unyielding noose, slipping as it pulled tighter, his body left dangling from the ceiling fan.

  Oh God! Help me!

  He screamed frantically in his mind, his lungs desperate for oxygen.

  Somewhere in the distance, gss shattered, though his hearing was becoming muffled. He couldn’t tell if it was real or merely a figment of his imagination. It sounded real, yet the edges of his hearing faded to a dull thrum, his vision blurring, white clouds creeping in around him. The initial sense of panic began to ebb, repced by an unsettling calm.

  Did he want to die? He had; he longed to be with Natalie.

  A muffled voice echoed somewhere, but his consciousness was already slipping away. He felt a warm embrace as the angel of death wrapped its wings around him, folding him into eternal stillness until he felt nothing at all, his vision and memory fading to darkness.

  A sudden rush of air ignited his lungs, the suffocating weight giving way to bittersweet relief, yet he did not stir. Unaware of the answered prayer and the nightmare that awaited him upon waking.