This is a short one-shot based on a quote I found, which I really like. I do not own it but I do own the rest. This is quite angsty. Please R&R!
'I carved your name in the bullet so people would know you were the last thing going through my head.'
James looked down at the piece of paper the police officer had just handed him. His name was written at the top in Molly's neat, feminine handwriting. Molly. He had been going out with for a year. But he'd realised his true feelings. James knew he was gay. He and Mols had had fun, it had been the idealistic romance. Picnics, trips to the beach, romantic meals. He still remembered their first kiss. They had been shy at first, not really sure how to go about it. But then they had relaxed and it had just fallen into place. When he had first seen Gary though, it had fallen apart, crumbling around them. He had always known that Gary was gay. It wasn't a secret. He was tall and muscular, with strawberry-blonde hair that flopped down into his eyes, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. James had kept the feelings he felt for Gary a secret a first, but it hadn't taken Molly long to work it out. She wasn't stupid after all. They had agreed to end it. But the day Molly had see him and Gary hand in hand, she realised just how much she still loved James. He had watched her sink into a deep depression. But he never thought it would end like this.
Slowly, he unfolded the paper to reveal Molly's last letter to him.
'James, I'm sorry it had to end this way, believe me. But I realised I needed you. I couldn't live without you. I carved your name in the bullet so people would know you were the last thing going through my head.'
He retched as his knees gave way underneath him. He looked up at the tall policeman who came over to him.
"Is everything okay son?"
"I have to see the bullet, please, it's important." He choked, pulling himself up, wiping his mouth roughly on his sleeve.
"It isn't nice for a young boy such as yourself, surely?"
"You don't understand, this is different. Molly was my girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend."
And suddenly the policeman knew, "you're James." It was a statement, he knew that.
"Come with me."
There it was, spattered with deep crimson blood, 'James' roughly scratched into it's cold metal surface. It seemed to stare at him, leering. He closed his eyes tightly, but he still saw it. James James James James James. It was as though his name was white hot, etching itself into his brain. James James James. Finally, he couldn't take it. Clenching his fist, he fell to the ground and the darkness overcame him.