Since day one I had been enamored with his eyes that bounce between blue and green, his dirty blonde hair, and the muscles he posses that have the ability to make my knees fail with just the sight of them. The image of his perfect blush lips was engraved in my mind. Silently I slipped the note into my mother's bag. I had to lie. She hadn't heard of this date with Graham yet and she was not going to find out now. I know just what she would have said. "Graham could not be good for you. He is a weakness." While that might have been true, he was a weakness I was willing to give into.
I stared into the looking glass with an unsettled stomach, anticipating all that might have happened that tonight. Something seemed a bit dreary about the air though. This was nothing for me to be concerned about however, all that required my attention was looking exquisite. Graham must be as infatuated with me as I was with him. Perhaps I should have given more attention to my instinct.
My throat decreased the amount of air that was allowed to escape and enter it. My heart felt constricted as he walked toward me. My nerves alone could have killed me that night. The moment I was waiting for all year long was happening. His perfect blush lips were not just an an image anymore. They were the only things perceptible by my eyes. The lights of the fair rides had shimmered as bright as my love for him. I felt safe. He had a protective deposition about him, like the lions have of their prey.
As we waited in line, suddenly his hand grabbed my waist and pulled me in close. My heart started to slow. His perfect blush lips now made me nauseated. The warmth I felt against his body as his smile went from ear to ear was sickening. The blood on my hand as I pulled it away from my stomach confirmed my first thought, I was going to die tonight. The dagger had pierced too far through me for my survival to be an option. I watched the crowd as no one suspected a thing. Screaming buried my thoughts, but the sound was unable to escape my lips. The once romantic lights had now turned to ash. Graham, the man i thought I knew, the man whose dexterity with a knife could have never been guessed, now looked malicious and distraught. He pulled away from me and sank into the crowd. What had been done was irrevocable.
The noisy location. The multitude of people. The dark, and gloomy sky. All of this in synthesis created the perfect murder. Panicked, fading voices would be the last thing my ears would perceive. What would be my last sight? Graham's beautifully wretched face. As my eyes rolled back, the dirt under a nervous crowds' feet became my grave. As for Graham, he would never be caught. After all, no one knew I would be out with him.
