Everyone wanted what she couldn't have.
I stopped. She was bleeding after all. Perfect lines crossed her wrists, not near any crucial veins, but enough to leave wet red tracks across her skin. She hadn;t hit her veins when she did this; death hadn't been her goal.
Of course, some might argue that one can never know what's in the heart of a woman— For they are strange and mysterious creatures,and a man must be a mind reader if he ever wishes to make them happy.
