Where no one would stop him, where he could be with Petra.Once he arrived at the secluded spot, he looked round to make sure it was deserted. It was time. She could wait no more and he wanted to be with her. His only regret was that he was dressed as Peter and not as Petra.Sobbing, Peter plunged the knife into his wrist and pulled the blade towards his elbow, he then repeated this action on his other arm. The warm blood gushed out of both wounds. He sank to the ground and rested his back against the wall. He wouldn't make any phone calls this time. This time nobody would stop him. No one cared anyway."Petra, I'm coming. This time we will never be parted," he said to the night air.Suddenly, he was gripped with panic. As his blood pressure dropped, his brain frantically closed down non-essential organs, liver, stomach, kidneys and the like. It also diverted the remaining blood away from the extremities, trying to keep his heart, lungs and brain alive. But the brain was fighting a. The location was buzzing with tourists in tropical attires ranging from sundresses and shorts, right down to bikinis and sarongs.Bridget, Charlotte, Katrina and I were sitting in cane chairs sipping tropical sunshine dashed with abundant amounts of tequila. We were all wearing sundresses and two of our hats had gone with the wind. It was late in the afternoon and we started drinking right after lunch, which made it difficult to tell if we were glowing and glistening because of the tropical sun or the amount of alcohol we had consumed.As usual, we were the giggliest bunch and our giggles were often punctuated by sudden coughs from sipping a cold bevvy. Bridget and Charlotte had a silly way of getting me and Katrina drunk and giggling about and today was no exception.Charlotte often said, "Sharon, the freckles on your body often remind me of an old map of London 'burbs!"That would set another explosion of laughter from Bridget. Katrina would wait a while and then soon join in with the.
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