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.

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