Left #shortstory Laura left. Said the house is haunted. What kind of crazy excuse is that? She could have at least had the decency to be honest and admit that she doesn't love me. I really thought she was different. I thought we had a chance. I'm a fool. That's what my ex always used to say - what was her name? I can't remember. Odd that isn't it? We were engaged and everything. When Laura moved in I'd do all sorts of things for her. Little things. Stuff you'd hardly notice really. But I think that's more important, you know, more real than the big romantic gestures. It's easy to rent a limo and go to a fancy restaurant. That's just one evening. Anyone can be brilliant for one evening. But putting her socks on the radiator every night so they'll be nice and warm in the morning - that's something else. I was always doing things like that. I thought it was sweet but, after a while, she said it was creepy. I can't believe she's gone. She's the one that wanted to move in. I didn't push. I keep wandering up the stairs into the bedroom, back downstairs, into the living room, the kitchen. Not the bathroom though. I don't like the bathroom. The house is so empty without her here. I shouldn't have lost my temper that time, that time she brought Craig from work round. It's just... It was obvious he liked her and I didn't feel it was appropriate. Still, I shouldn't have smashed that glass. That was bad. I knew it was bad. The next day I brought her flowers from the garden, but she said I scared her. A week later she was moving out. Craig even helped her. That was low. I thought that was really low. And I made sure she knew it too. I have a problem with my temper. My ex said so. It's just, you know, I try so hard and it's frustrating when my efforts aren't appreciated. It's good she's gone. Laura I mean. My ex too I guess. I like having the place to myself. No really. I do. I can do what I want. Like that wall she painted purple - fucking purple! She called it a feature wall. Well, it's a feature now. The estate agent said it was a mess but I don't care. They got people in to fix the place up. I spent the day following them round. Watched them scrub that fucking purple wall. This one guy kept turning round and looking at me. Said it creeped him out. So what? I didn't want them here. No one asked me. My ex never used to ask me. She always just assumed that I'd go along with her. And I guess I did. I would have done anything for her. But then she left too. Doesn't matter now. It's in the past. That's what they say isn't it? That night is still hazy. Like trying to bring to mind a half-remembered film. Laura came round to drop off her keys. I tried to tell her that I missed her. I tried to ask her to come back. But that stupid estate agent was there again. That one with the 90s tie. "Why did you decide to leave?" he said. "It's haunted," she said. I expected him to laugh but he didn't. Instead he looked right at me and sort of through me. "I know," he said. And I remembered then. I remembered that night. The rain pouring down. Asking my ex... Michelle. That was her name. Michelle. I remembered asking her to stay, to please stay. Her slamming the door and me - weeping. I remembered going to the bathroom and emptying the cabinets. The pills. I remembered taking the pills. And then Michelle coming back just as I was fading away. She cried. She cried - and that was when I died.