I stand in front of my mirror draped in a black cloth. My make-up arranged in a semi-circular design in front of me. I pick up my lipstick and circle my lips I do the same with my eye shadow my color palette for tonight is black my dress and veil lay on my bed an empire waist with vamp sleeves of black lace accented in red, blood red. My veil is also black but sheer itís so fine. It covers half my face to leave me peeking out. Itís so sheer enough for me to see you but heavy enough to place a barrier between the world and I. I put on my dainty and foreign heels. And slip into the hallway where your gloved hand reaches and takes my own gloved hand. Your pinstripe suit with light blue compliments your icy eyes. A shudder passes me when thin lips graze my hand and you half smile so twisted it calms me. We flow to where a hearse awaits and sit on the carpeted floor. The red floor brings out the accents on my dress you notice and whisper I'm beautiful and give me a demanding kiss. Cold, icy boy, cold. Nothing is out of the ordinary to fate her plan unfolds perfectly through you. A perfect illusion a magic trick. You take my hand and gently pull me to where scenes of the mindless and soulless await awaiting a coffin you will eagerly and eventually provide. we take the dance floor so still we cannot call it a dance a resolution passes in your eyes and a knife slips from your sleeve to your hand holding it to my back you press me closer still so close I smell death behind your ears and innocence in your hair. the knife presses into my flesh so softly it hasnít even tore my dress you press it closer until the pressure between the knife and me fades and breaks the knife slits me and my blood beads press it deeper still I look in your eyes where remorse makes you tear and helplessness pushes you on I fall back crumple at your feet hopelessly trying to utter your name death is your final gift.