Morphine-coated needles tossed asunder on a filth floor. Hazy eyes stretched open, allowing harsh fluorescent light to seep in. Seep in under the cracks.

Suddenly, fist collides with pavement and a raw scream bubbles up from the lungs, spilling over cracked lips. The sound of rampant heart-beats fill the quiet room as he lunges ‘towards what once was.

The decaying body of a girl, tucked away so nicely beneath the hospital sheets. They were going to save her, but they “couldn’t.” Pale hands grab for a make-shift sledge lying ‘cross the doorframe, and in one swift motion he brings it down across her brow. Mutilating the forehead and eyes. With a grunt the sledge is brought upwards again, as he hesitates, staring blankly down at tainted flesh.

Her figure was nothing more than broken bones and wounds he had inflected. The only recognizable part was the lips. Those pale-pink lips that once whispered such sweet words to him. . .

With a strangled groan he heaves the sledge down onto them, bones snap and buckle under the weight. He had to break her, break that porcelain skin. Break the fond memories.

Screams echo out and calloused hands tear at hair.

Now she was gone, completely.

Now he didn’t have to worry.