Extreme Horror Anthology @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } My Dark Lover Stacy Bolli I was the tender age of twelve years when I was forced to do the unthinkable, a task that nearly destroyed me. I looked at the gleaming silver coffin, adorned with ornately carved silver handles, as six solemn pall-bearers prepared to lower it into the hard, frozen ground. A small intimate audience gathered and wept over the tragic loss of such a young and promising life. A life that just one year ago was at its prime, flawless in personality and pristine in beauty. A life that I watched slowly dissolve before me until that vibrant spark in her wonderful sky blue eyes had become completely extinguished, leaving nothing but a once beautiful shell. I felt a burning sensation under my eyelids as the tears began to well. I wrenched my hand free of my father’s firm hold and pulled away from the small, somber crowd. I ran to the casket and draped my upper torso over the glossy lid and openly sobbed over the injustice of it all.
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