“if i were to live or to die”

the man runs down a wet street in london in his qwiaring hands he holds a small torso its lims slashed to ribions the man is crying… not waling tears but solum determind tears with eyes that pearst the gloom darting arownd to find some one anyone but even london sleeps and looks on uncearing the man now wet trough steps in to the light cast from the hostpitel the shineing from the figers arms is light relectid from the blood spilt from the lasharashions the blood has soked torugh the preshure bandige aplied vire a med kit and on tto the mans shirt the girl behind the deask at the hostpitel had oly been working there for a week in this time she had not seen a suicide cace befor she stould frozen for a seciond befor joneing the other ordalys as thay rushed to take the body out of the mans arms no not body it was still breething as the teem of medics prised the figer from the man he fell back eyes closed and began to snore

the man wakes up in a bed with a beeping in his ears and a trobing in his head he slowly slips back in to his sleep befor he remmbers his charge he sits up right and gets out of bed a hand pushis him back down a big ordaly shows him a chart and tells him to take it esey then he says he can see her… he dosunt whant to he rely dosunt cos he knows what happuns but still he gets his clothes and takes the walk down the coridor… arownd the corner and in to the room… and there she is siting up slim brown hear perfect eyes he walks over to her and she smiles at him not to him or she just smiles but she smiles AT him she opens her moth and says

“if i were to live or to die to love or to lose to cherish or to hold i will never forget you”

*the lights go out*

fin