',0 Evelyn's Tragic Lullaby 0',

She hid the whiskey with breath mints. Her brown eyes glancing around the room for a moment, blood shot. The bartender had called her a taxi. It had been five years since his death. And everyone talked about it behind her back. Some people whispered that it was her fault for leaving him, for breaking his heart. Did she know how much he loved her? Only her? No other woman would do for him. Some people whispered that she blamed herself for it. Some people whispered back that it was good, because she should. But no one really knew the truth.

No one knew how much she blamed herself. The guilt lived with her everytime she was awake. She tried to hide from life, tried to sleep it away. But when she was awake she drank. And her parents weren't happy with her, she lived at home. Having lost her job from going to work drunk. She didn't pay any bills; she only drank and slept. That's all she would do. The guilt, and the pain gobbling her up from inside out.

She remembered the way he laughed as she brought the bottle to her lips and drank down the whiskey in her container. She set the flask down and stared down at the picture in her lap. The only one she had left of him. Somehow when she was purging herself of him five-teen years ago this one had escaped the fire. It was of them, curled up together on the couch in their home. Her eyes closed and droplets of water hit the picture. Splashing and dripping down her fingers. They were laughing in the picture. Curled up tightly like two people in love.

Another drink and she couldn't forget how much they had been in love. Five years of drinks she couldn't forget that musky scent he had. Couldn't forget that slight tang of sweat from his skin. Nothing she ever did took him from her mind. She dreamt of him. Sometimes the dreams were horrible. She watched him beg her to take him back in her dreams. And when she rejected him time and time again.. He shot himself in the head. And she simply watched and let him do it.

And sometimes the dreams were good. They were together again. They were happy and the past never happened. She didn't walk out on him. He didn't cheat, she didn't cheat. She didn't hit him, he didn't fight back. They were together without their natures keeping them apart. Evelyn let out a sigh, as she'd slowly open her brown eyes. Her fingers tracing over his blonde hair in the picture. Only to lift her hand up and run it through her own dirty and unkempt black curls. Her lower lip quivered as she tried to hold back the tears.

"I loved you so much, Mat.." She whispered to the picture. Curling up on the bed. Slowly turning the radio down. The lullaby making her cry. She couldn't stand it anymore. She missed him, she loved him, and she had killed him.

The guilt, the longing, and the mourning tore her up until she couldn't feel anything else anymore. She hadn't laughed in six years. Evelyn had watched him drink from afar. Even as she slowly pulled herself further from him. Not wanting to make it worse. Could she have saved him? She knew what the note said..

Even without being told she knew what it said. Her fingers curled around the handle on her drawer. And slowly pulled the desk open. Fingertips touching the cold metal of her gun. Her eyes closed tightly. Her voice whispering around the barrel of the gun, "I'm so sorry Mat.."

Her free hand clutched his picture to her chest. Thunder sounded in the room. Blood splattered on her bed, and her walls. And she was free of him. Free of the pain and the guilt, and the suffering.

She was buried next to him underneath an old willow. And somewhere angels sang a sad song for the two lovers. Who didn't have the strength to get up off of their knees. Who couldn't live with each other, and couldn't live without each other.