by Page Wright
He left me, alone in the darkness, so that he could track his prey, alone. I'm not sure if it was the first time he left me, or if I ever had him to lose, but it was the last time he walked away from me. He went to chase the wolf that had been attacking our home and all those close to us; he went to save us and to destroy us. The wolf did not tear us apart, he did, he chose to go out into the night alone, away from me, away from the home we made together. The wolf killed him, but he killed me. Martin was mauled, murdered, viciously taken, while I slept silently and never woke up.
Page Wright writes from Hertfordshire.