The story so far:
My head is aching and dizzy. I hold it in both hands as I sit on the edge of the bed. Wobbly and nauseous, I can taste the vomit rushing into my mouth as I rush for the toilet. Hot acid spews out of me in an arch towards the toilet. I hug the cold ceramic like an old friend as seemingly endless quarts of caustic puke convulses out of me. When my stomach stops lurching and my jaw unlocks I lean against the bathroom wall in relief. Curled into a ball against the toilet sleep takes me and I am out for hours.
The stench is what wakes me. A vile odor not readily recognizable to the untrained nose. Acrid and sweet the smell of a corpse is something once experienced stays with you forever. I didn't know at first that was what I was smelling. After all the smell of old vomit mixed with vodka was competing for my sinuses and neither one was anything that could be described as pleasant. No, I didn't have any idea what I was smelling until I slipped and fell -SMACK! Right next to Laney's body. God blesses the inebriated with dulled senses. if I had been more sober slipping on a pool of Laney's blood and slamming my head on the tile would probably have hurt a hell of a lot more and shocked me out of my wits. All I could muster was a whimper as I tried to pull myself off the floor. A scene so surreal that I cried and laughed in between shouts of agony as I slipped and fell two more times as I tried to get up. Finally I crawled my way up to the bed and sat there staring down at what had been the most beautiful creature I had ever known.
A more sane man would have run from the room.
A smarter man would have cleaned the room spotless and walked away.
A man in love, still so very much in love and grief is neither of these. My tears raining down on her body I cover her naked blody body with a blanket from the bed. Hours later when no more tears will come - I call 911.