All the thoughts in the heart are in the past, and all the sights in the past are regrets.

  She thought she would live forever, but she died.

  Those bullets went through her like she is a broken toy, only living for someone's play.

  She looked at her husband: "Kill me," She said, "Kill me. Please."

  All the cold bullets pierced through her shoulders, the sound of flesh and blood was slowly and low, and her last request was also. There was no pain at the moment of her death, but there was an itch in her heart that gnawed on ants, and so was the letter she sent home from afar. A reptile gnawed at his fingertips, and the sleeping consciousness gradually drifted into the distance, as did her prayer before going to bed. The shrivelled throat could not express the joy of goodbye, the white cloth on her body was soft and clean, and so were her fingertips.

  Then, she saw someone.

  God? No.

  It's her husband.

  She was dying on the bed, and God was sitting by the bed. 

  "I seem to be dying."

  "Well." 

  "You've been with me for so many years, you didn't even cry once when I die, really...? Seriously?"

 She muttered, her body getting colder. God's hand carefully touched her hair. "I cried 572 times, watching you reincarnate again and again. The worst time I cried was that you became a goldfish. This time, where will you be? How long will I be looking for you?"

  Her body became cold and froze.

  The old man stood up from the bedside and sighed. He pushed the bell beside the white sheets and wiped away his tears. Soon, a doctor will come.

The doctor came into the room with his eyes looking around nervously, trying to find some bad views like red blood staining the white bed sheets or an old woman trying to kill her husband with a gun. But he found nothing.

  Nothing, except for the peaceful man raising his teary eyes to look at him. On the bed, there lay an old woman that's in her 60's. She seems to be sleeping, or else, the doctor thought, she'd better be sleeping.

  The husband sunk deep into the ground and smiled cautiously: "She's gone, Dr. Swet, she's gone. She's finally gone.... Finally dead.... Gone..... Dead."

Dr. Swet turned his eyes toward the machine that counts and feels the patient's heartbeat, it's a flat line, a very flat line indeed. The machine screamed like hell, he walked quietly to the technology and stopped it from disturbing the dead.

  "You played along with her for so long, it's time. Even if she's still alive, we doctors can't do anything about her. She's insane." He sounded like a ghost, his voice raspy, he did not sound like a life saviour, he did not sound like a doctor. If somebody who doesn't understand the situation comes in and hears those words, that guy would like to kill the young man who calls himself a doctor.

  The room was in silence for a few seconds before an even more raspy voice sounded: "Dr. Swet, thank you..... For enduring my wife for so long...... I love her, but yes, I agree, it's time for her to go."

  No, that woman was a monster.

  She tried to cut open her husband's throat, only because she thought he was the murderer that killed her son.

  Then he told her, in screams, that he accepted the fact: He killed their son.

  She fell into a deeper hole.

  She recorded the screams of him being beaten by a whip; the screams of being shot through the palm of his hand; the groaning sounds of being slapped; the pain of being slashed by a knife inch by inch.

  She recorded them all down.

  He couldn't hold it anymore and sent her to a famous mental hospital. He described her acts, and the doctors took her. He didn't even mention her torture.

  Oh, how he loves her.

  He forced and convinced the doctors to let him stay with her in the same room, he said that it's going to help her relax, because his wife can't stand a single second without her lover.

  He lived in the white room with her for a year, another year, another year, he lived with her for a total of five years. Every single day, she opened her phone and made him listen to the recordings.

  He was all bruised and horrific, even though he was already so miserable, he still had the strength to beat the table with the doctors, saying that he must stay here with his wife. Because he is her husband.

  Every time she made him listen to his pains and screams, he only looked into her eyes and say those two words over and over again.

  "It's ok."

  It's ok.

  The 60 year old man lived so passionately: Hey, I'm this proud, how could I bow my head to some kind of little troublemakers like fate? I will never bow to fate.

  He was crazy? No.

  He only stood on his wife's side, forever. He didn't erase the fact that their son died because of a car accident. Their 5 year old son was running across a busy traffic, but he didn't run fast enough to save the young boy's life.

  He still stood beside the white bed, staring at her face.

  He is the toughest life one could ever see in their whole life. He fights with high spirits every day under his son's death and his wife's madness. He never compromised, and he never gave up. This is a battle that will only end when he reaches the end of his life.

For someone like him, you can't imprison him with chains, because even if you break his leg, he will crawl out desperately as long as he has a breath.

  He smiled at the doctor, his smile big and bright and shining through the pure room: "You know I love her. I have to keep our promise."

  Dr. Swet pushed the white cloth over the poor woman's head, he asked mindlessly: "What promise?"

  "I promised to protect her until the end. Until forever. Forever and ever. I promised her when we were 20! I still didn't forget! Dr. Swet, 40 years have passed now, I did it."

  At that moment, the tears dropped down like a bracelet without the thread to connect it, the beads rolled heavily onto the floor and dried.

  Both of the men in the room whispered at the same time: "You really love her, don't you."

Then, the husband pulled out a gun under the bed. His body was shaking, but determination filled his body. He sounded like an 18 year old boy that is hot blooded and hot headed: "Please, doctor! Please!"

  Dr. Swet looked at him blankly, like it's not even a surprise that he pulled out a weapon from nowhere. He nodded his head lightly and went out of the room to give him some privacy.

  Five minutes passed, maybe 10 minutes, maybe even an hour, silence filled the space with depression and low atmosphere.

  Since he chose death, it means that he has ushered in the final victory with death.

  The doctor reopened the door and saw two bodies, one laying on the ground with a satisfied smile; the other hugging her lover. They were an unforgettable couple, blood stained the white floor dark red. But he doesn't think that it's disgusting, because the red decorated the two bodies with a living air.

  "Thank you," He bowed, "Thank you for letting me know how strong a human being can be."

  But the husband is the kind of the man that even if he only has one breath left, he has to resist; he has to crawl out of that hell; he has to live. He deserves to live, but he chose a path that's way better.

  Because, he loves her, he loved her, he will love her.

  Years and years ago, a boy died. That was the start of the beautiful nightmare.

  Years and years later, a couple died. That was the end of a scary but shocking scene.

  The last living creature put some pressure on his fists and walked over to check the scene. He found a paper slip on their bodies, the paper slip was pure white, white like the moonlight, even more white on top of all the red. He didn't think much and picked it up:

'I will be with you forever,

I was born in the sky, longer than the scorching sun,

I soar in the wind and never go far,

My dearest, please don't cry for me,

I will be with you forever.'

  He was the most beautiful life one could ever get, he's too beautiful for this world, so the world took him because it is jealous of how beautiful he is.

  He told Swet once that life lives only once, so he needs to see the light.

  Swet asked him, what is the light?

  He didn't answer, he just laughed.

  Now, Swet knows what the light is, because he just saw it lose its brightness.

  The scorching sun is dazzling, and the wind is blowing through the sky.