“You’re being melodramatic, you piss.” Melody said.
“Drink it.” Mark snapped.
I swallowed and felt the chains around me pull. They were cold, the promised death from the poison, warm.
My last vision, Melody in Marks arms, a long passionate kiss. My cheating heart ceases. Worthless as a carton of days old milk, I expire.
Below is the one I wrote that I did not submit.
It was more the idea than the reality. I felt shackled. To a dead end job. To a loveless marriage. To a life without possibility of happiness. The knife stuck in my side. I was a failure. My death would not come so easy. Pity I would die as alone as I’d lived. Forgive me.