[ CW ] Write a story that ends with `` I love her . That 's why I killed her '' .

Her name was Lisa. She was a woman of unimaginable love and kindness, but she was displaced from the world, or rather she ran parallel to it. She was pure poetry, with all the rhyme and twice the passion. She was too good for the hand she was dealt, too good, and too kind. This place was ours, this cabin on the hill though it ’ s been ages since I thought about it. This is where dreams were made, back in those long nights where anything seemed possible. I remember those days, her eyes were bright and the future seemed so expansive. Back then she would ramble on for hours about what she wanted the life she imagined for herself. The nights she would spend in Paris dancing the hours away, the wind in her hair in London, and the taste of salt on her tongue as she sailed off to see the world. We were friends once, more than that even, but eventually you forget, people always forget. I took a job in Florida and she stayed here struggling to get her writings published. She married young to a man that never cared about her and who was never around from what I here. We lost touch shortly after the wedding, perhaps it was my fault in the end. I received a call to come here and I looked forward to it every minute until I got here. She had nothing when I saw her again, no legacy to leave behind. There was hurt, but there was more than that. She had a want; that same want that she had as a child. That need to be remembered, to stand at the precipice of life and jump off of it laughing. Looking into her eyes I could see nothing but the look of a life wasted. Our talk went one for hours, reminiscing about what used to be, thinking about what could have been. It was clear, that young dreamer was still in there, but her future was gone she was robbed from it. She had gone back here to reconnect with what once was to find a trace of that fire, but there was nothing here anymore. Not for her and certainly not for me. We poured one more glass of wine danced one more time; she cried we both did. 
 
 I loved her. That ’ s why I killed her 
 
 -Darius Shaw 

