Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the story. A combination of made-up and real people playing fictional characters
NOTE: Trying to find my way back into writing, lol. It's been a while since I last wrote a story or anything close to it so please be gentle, though I am open to any comments, suggestions, and hopefully not-so-violent reactions. Haha, thank you R&R!
"We're losing her!"
"No, we're not!"
"I can't feel her pulse!"
"She'll make it! Trust me"
Suddenly, a loud beep erupted throughout the room and a flat line was all that could be seen on her heart monitor.
Samantha Munroe pronounced dead at 11:48pm.
I woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and struggling for breath. This is the fourth night I've dreamt of her dying… and how it was my fault. If I hadn't insisted on going out that night we wouldn't have been in that accident; she'd still be alive.
People considered me lucky to have walked away that night with nothing more than a dislocated shoulder. But they didn't know the pain I was enduring was far from any physical pain. Because that was the night I lost her; my wife.
It took a few minutes for my breathing to return to normal. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand I checked the time, 12:45am, it read. "There's no way I'll be able to go back to sleep after that."
Shaking myself awake, I dragged myself towards the bathroom. Somehow, the cold water from the faucet seemed to calm me. Drying my face off, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
Guilt. Anger. Depression. Loneliness. All these emotions played within me yet my face was void of them. I've turned into a monster and that's the way it has been since. That's how people know me now.
Randy Orton is a cold-hearted monster.