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The small group of emergency responders turns and looks down at you as you vomit uncontrollably on the lawn in front of you.   They immediately regain their professional composure, realizing that you've overheard their conversation.  You kneel there in the grass in a daze for what could have only been hours because once you snap out of your haze you find yourself kneeling alone in front of the yellow caution tape as it twists and flutters in the warm breeze.   You stand up and stare at the empty house.  You duck under the tape and walk up to the door...


You peer through the small glass window but can't see anything other than that all the lights are off. 


You step off the porch and make your way around to the livingroom window.  You take a deep breath before looking in,  The shades are pulled but there is a sliver of an opening at the base of the window,  You bend down and peer into the opening,  You immediately see a large pool of sticky red blood centered around the corner of the the brick fireplace.  The white canvas is rumpled and one corner is soaked in brilliant red, a sickening contrast to the soft sage paint that is also in a puddle.  The two puddles meld together is a nauseating shade of brown.  It takes a minute for the scene to process and then you drop to the ground, again violently vomiting into the dirt at the base of the house.  You stumble back to your car....although you are in a complete fog...unable to draw together a coherent thought.   You climb in the car and drive away from the tragic situation.  You find yourself some time later driving down the highway,  You have no idea where you are or how you got there.  It's dark out and headlights race past you on the other side of the road.  You regain your thoughts and try to process the events of the day.  You try to tell yourself it was all a dream but the vivid picture of the blood and paint mixing together on the wood floor jolts your mind back too the cruel reality of it all.  Tears begin to fill your eyes and you begin to weep uncontrollably, completely consumed in anguish.  It was all your fault.  If you would have stayed....If you would have just taken a minute to clean up the paint cans......If you just would have kissed him!  So many opportunites to alter this sickening future and you took the wrong path on each and every one.  

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