Beverley
Blood poured out of her gut, onto the floor and into his hands and into his veins. "No, no, a thousand times no," he said his hand bleeding into mine. Tears rushed down his face as he screamed and yelled into oblivion. But what was I to do? Beverly sat on the ground by the sink, propped up against the wall. Looking back, I wish I could've told him the truth; it wasn't his fault. Her life had been set up for her to die, as had his.