How did I end up here? Something tells me that the bridges I’ve burned are reforming. She’s coming again. He’s following. How’d he get in here? He’s not part of my memory that I can gather. She knows something, that grin says it all. It’s the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. He’s stabbing her in the back and I saw the whole scene. It’s bloody here and I can’t say anything. Oh she can’t feel it can she? She’s not screaming like she fucking should be. Oh god his heart is racing. It’s almost coming out of his chest. He’s so happy, they’re gonna make it. This romance is one for novels; it’s so beautiful in the most wretched way. This is love; I can feel it in the air. Wrap her up tight and keep her close. Maybe you should leave her for a moment, she’s not moving. Oh god, what the fuck have you done? This screenplay is shit, the damsel died and your fingerprints are all over the crime scene. Is she calling a cab to get home? You can’t save her now, no matter how bad you want to. She was made of gold but vanished into dust, and now you’re snorting that shit in the front seat of a motor home. What have you become? Everyone is going to remember that face, Hollywood is envious of your type. Run quick, the southern winds are rolling in like thunder and trust me; they’re not here to find prisoners.

This smoke is awful, it’s going to kill us all. It’ll work it’s way into your goddamn lungs that you’ve kept hidden behind those insides. How well do they actually work? When’s the last time you cleaned those hideous things out? What’s your story and how’d you get in here?