the night it happened was a warm one at best, smoldering at worst. his eyes still burnt in the back of my head.

they were like coal; the fueled a fire in his heart and they narrowed. she was behind him; she was apart but her role was not too big nor too small

he was the ringleader. he ran the show. she was just an actress to follow his lead.

the night still replays over and over like a broken record. the last thing i had left was ripped (literally) from me. the pain was one you could not imagine.

it was like my skin was peeled right off. like it was slowly like a child with a band-aid and my back was a cut from the school playground. he was mocking me and that is what pained me the most.

his black eyes and black hair and black stare haunts my nights. if i ever told colin, i'm sure he would be dead.

not tony; colin...or maybe vice versa. i honestly do not know.

the lesser of two evils, perhaps?