"I just came by to tell you, it's over." He lowered the eyes I knew so well to the ground and ran his fingers nervously through his auburn hair. "Why?" I asked. He didn't answer me, because he didn't have to. I already knew the answer.
I tried looking away, so I wouldn't have to look at him so I could control my tears. It didn't help. They flowed freely down my cheeks, warm, salty tears. He still hadn't looked at me and was jingling the keys in his pockets. The car over in the driveway was empty, except for one single person. And it wasn't a fellow football player.
Suddenly I felt anger coursing through me like a thousand knives. My head spun with wild fury. All I could think of how to hurt him as bad as he hurt me. I fixed my eyes on him and brought myself to look at the hair I so lovingly used to caress. Its red tint seemed to be glowing, and it reminded me of blood. My head swam with the thought. I bit down on my tongue to make myself bleed, as I often do. I started to shake, and thinking that I was crying again, he looked up. I brought my hand to his face. I slapped him with such force that he actually moved backwards. He looked at me finally, with shock in his almond brown eyes. He clutched the side of his cheek where my hand had been. That's when he noticed the blood.
I glanced at my hand and saw skin and blood from his handsome face. I looked at him and saw he had a cut that was bleeding. He looked at the blood on his hand and just stared at it. My mind was still a raging war and I moved close to him and looked up into his face. "Are you going to answer me?" I said with an insane smile on my face. The blood caught my eyes, and dripped down the side of his cheek, oozing it's way to his chin. I watched it and licked my lips at the thought of the taste.
He looked at me with more shock and then his own anger started to brew. "Yes its over and I want you to leave me alone, you crazy bitch." He started to turn away but I grabbed his arm and he struggled to get free, but I held my grip. I glared at him my eyes afire and said, "It's not over until I say it's over." And with that I let go of his arm. I heard him mutter, "Fucking crazy bitch," as he got into his car. I smiled another crazy grin and waved as he drove away.
"It's not over yet. Not yet." I whispered softly. Then I walked into my house and shut the door, his warm blood still dripping from my nails.

* * *
The blood was warm on my fingertips as I licked it. So good and sweet, unlike my own. I dipped my hand in for more and moved my fingers in the silky liquid. It swirled at my touch and I watched it slowly turn around and around. I pulled my hand out, and careful not to spill a drop, I brought it to my mouth and drank.
My divine wine ran down my throat like a magical elixir. My tongue craved for more. I dug back into his stomach for more but found most of it had dried. No matter, there was plenty more. I grabbed the large knife at my side and plunged it into his chest. The precious liquid poured out, and dripped onto the floor. I smiled, for it still was warm. I brought my lips to it and licked at the small hole that I had made. I glanced at him, his dead eyes stared out in surprise at me, at my little feast. I pulled my self up slowly, like everything was in slow motion. I wiped my mouth with my hand. I grinned madly at the mess I had made. I looked into the lifeless brown eyes and lowered myself to his ear.

"Now it's over."