I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears. And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave. 'Cause your presence still lingers here, and it won't leave me alone. These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real; there's just too much that time cannot erase. When you cried, I wiped away all of your tears. When you screamed I'd fight away all of your fears. I held your hand through all of these years, and you still have all of me.

Flack looked at the photo of Jessica Angell, smiling playfully, a lock of her dark hair against her cheek. She'd been dead for weeks, but to Flack, it seemed like only yesterday he'd held her dying body in his arms.

"Stay with me, sweetheart, just hang on. Look at me, Jess!" he'd plead, yelling for an ambulance.

Jessica had not responded. The last words he'd heard from her were over the phone, planning a nice, romantic evening for the two of them.

But that was before.

The restaurant she'd been in was slammed into by a large semi, the truck's occupants opening fire the minute they got out. Jess had been hit, and it was Flack who'd held her as she had slipped in and out of conscienceness.

Now, he sat alone in his apartment, tie undone, beer bottle in one hand, and the photo in the other. He laid the photo on the table before him."Damn it, Jess, I tried so hard to save you. Why can't you leave me alone now? It's done. There's nothing I can do anymore, baby," he ranted, slamming the bottle down so hard on the table that the bottom cracked.

Dazed, Flack watched the amber liquid seep from the crack, and saturate the photo, causing the edges to curl. He watched dully, his chest heaving with sobs.