Rose
They had guns pointed at him the whole time.
I'm sure he knew he could've been shot and killed coming into the house, but he did it anyway.
He left something that almost made me jump out the window and chase him. My letter. I found it on my bedside after he left.
This isn't good for my heart. I'm breaking apart having to leave him.
The moment I noticed the gleam of the rifle, I turned him around and kissed him. It's what felt most natural. I shouldn't have done it.
It was goodbye but it opened up a new door of more heart-aching pain, I won't forget the touch of his lips.
It's been a couple hours since he left and I haven't moved from my bed. I can't, why would I? All I've been doing is holding the paper towel to my chest.
The door swings open and my dad walks in, with my mothe
