The first things I saw when I opened my eyes were the lifeless body and the bloody knife laying strewn on the floor.
In the darkened room I approached the curtains, seeing the flashing lights strobe the walls. An ambulance, followed by three patrol cars neared the house.
I ran down the stairs and reached for the front door. The paramedics charged in.
“Hurry, please do something, ” I shouted, as the uniformed men brushed past me and onto the first floor.
They checked the body for signs of life, holding the wrist, looking for a pulse.
“Time of death, 2:31am.”
“No, please, no!” I cried.
With a rehearsed practise, they lifted the body into the black plastic bag and zipped it up.
“Please! It’s not too late.”
They didn’t hear me.
I watched as my body was taken out of the room.
I sunk down in the bed, and stared at the flashing lights that decorated the walls, seeing them fade away, leaving me in the silence of the empty house.