He sees his battered, meaningless life replay itself before in a dark, crimson hue. He watches it in a pool of warm blood fresh from his throat. Watching it, he is only more assured that what he has done is right. He sees his best times play through in their bleak, reddish tint and his eyes fill up with tears ready to fall. But he will not allow them to fall, paranoid that if they do they might disrupt the painful yet beautiful visions as they drift by. He watches his times with Her, the only times he could dare call himself truly happy, those few times where the bliss is not outweighed by the suffering. But who has caused all this pain upon him in the first place? It was She. It was She who tore his life down around him, She who took the dismal life he offered up to her, and She who was never there. She repaid him with torment, scorn, disloyalty, and distrust. He tried to take it, but he couldn't take it anymore. He ripped out his heart and gave it to her while she offered hers up to another. He had held it in the past, but she took it away and his life went with it.
     He remembers the complete serenity of their times together and manages a weak smile. Then his eyes fall closed and he lets his broken, battered soul escape from his body and sail off into the beautiful darkness for eternity.