She drags her accidentally injured leg behind her as she approaches the woman on the couch.
“Wake up! ” she slurs, shaking the sleeping form. “I need you to call my mother. Number’s in my phone.” A trembling hand deposits a slimy cell.
“What? Why? What’s wrong? Where’s all this blood coming from?” These questions fall on an empty room.
Back in the bathroom, she makes her way over and climbs with difficulty into the blood-soaked bathtub. Carefully, she takes up and cocks the shotgun against her right carotid artery.
BLLAAAMMM!!!
Silence.
From the doorway, the groggy lover’s blood-spattered scream breaks.
