Drip

Drip.



I freeze.



Drop.



I turn slowly around, closing my eyes against the cold.



Drip.



I feel his smile.



Drop.



He steps toward me.



Drip.



I try not to cringe as he caresses my hair softly.



Drop.



I hear the blade being drawn.



Drip.



I see the glint of the dagger in the full moon.



Drop.



A sharp coolness slides across my throat, and I fall.



Drip.



My hair spills out across the garbage filled street and a crimson waterfall blooms on my shirt.



Drop.



He walks away, steps moving in time with my slowing heart.



Drip.



I make no sound as I listen to my own blood splash into the dirty water below me.



Drop.



Drip.



Drop.



Drip.