Thirteen

Marcus stood on the porch, clutching the wooden railing. The sun slowly dipped beyond the horizon, creating a beautiful orange and red sky. It looked like a storm was brewing. Although the scenery was surreal, agony gripped his heart.

He must kill Isabelle.

The longer he thought about ending her life, the more the ache in his chest grew almost to the point of suffocation. He devised plans in his head on how to go about doing it, but each way left a bitter taste of bile in his mouth. His stomach churned with indecision.

Logically, he knew he couldn’t kill her, and it had nothing to do with the time they’d spent together. He just couldn’t kill someone