Her options were limited, so limited that pain and loss was inevitable on both sides. All she knew was that she couldn’t let him suffer.
She walked over to him, tied up to the pole, face bruised, bloody, beaten. When he saw her, he lit up, like he entirely trusted her to do what was best, to do what was right. She started crying as she reached him and hugged him tightly.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she whispered tenderly into his ear.
He gasped. She cried even harder as she pushed the knife further up his stomach.
“I love you,” she whispered one more time to his lifeless body.
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