No one usually expects from the beginning that sooner or later they shall have to start their life all over. Heather, my dear, was the most beautiful woman one could ever know. I met her after walking home one evening. There she stood, trying fruitlessly to shield herself from the rain, when she came into my sight. With my cane in one hand and my umbrella in the other, I held my arm out to her. She seemed nervous, almost scared at first. I gave a warm-hearted smile and she reached out, grabbing my arm hesitantly. She smiled at me, wearing a drooping purple flowered hat that had obviously seen better days and a dark purple sleeved waistcoat leading down to a thick budding purple skirt.

I brought her to my humble home and had her spend the night. In the night I felt I learned about her whole life. She found out her fiancé had been cheating on her so he kicked her out. “The nerve of that man!” she cried. I listened patiently to her story, in which she had been together with that man for almost five years. They were planning on getting married the next summer. I smiled and nodded every so often, getting lost in her beauty every once in a while. I simply adored her.

After that night I asked Heather if she wanted to stay here, with me. Happiness grew in her face as she leapt onto me in a sweet embrace. She said I was the kindest man she had met and that she hoped she wouldn’t be a burden. I heartily answered with an “Of course not” and smiled at her. I told her we needn’t have to go back to her old house to get her things, for I would buy her a full new wardrobe even more magnificent than she had before. Heather replied with the child-like excitement that always flashed across her beautiful face. Her beautiful, beautiful face. I simply adored her.

She was with me for two months until that fateful night came. That night that forced my life to change. Two months of happiness until it was forced into the gutters. The night began beautifully, as it always did when she was around. She had so eagerly wanted to spend a personal night with me. Us, together. We planned to go to the theatre then to dinner on the riverside. We decided to walk through the streets that night, for the air was brisk and the setting sun still warm. Out of nowhere I was grabbed from behind by two powerful arms. I heard Heather’s high-pitched scream, for another man had grabbed her. A third man walked into my vision and promptly punched me in the face. The man holding onto me didn’t let go, so I was punched again and again. I was dropped to the hard ground, and before I passed out, I saw Heather being dragged away by the three men. She wasn’t moving. I tried to scream, to move, to do anything, but nothing worked. Darkness overcame me.

I woke up in my bed. I sat up and panicked. “Where am I? What happened?” I questioned the empty room. Just then, my servant entered with a grim face. I looked around. Heather was not with me. I heard him say the words, “She’s gone,” just barely over the ringing in my ears. He explained to me that the cops had come and found me lying in the street alone, but no one was with me. My head spun and black blotches filled my vision. I passed out again, this time for three days. I dreamt about Heather. I dreamt about her purple dress and her beautiful smile. Tears streamed down my face in my sleep. I simply adored her.

I tried to return to my normal life. I tried for a month to forget about her, but now everything reminded me of her. I wanted my Heather with me. I contemplated suicide for the longest time. I woke up one morning, and when I went to turn on the lamp that sat beside me, something was sitting on my nightstand. There sat a small vial with a piece of paper underneath it. I picked up the vial and looked at it intently, then picked up the paper. On it wrote, “Your life is too precious to lose. This will make you forget.” This is the alternative. But what does it do? I still haven’t taken it, but I have decided that today is the day. I documented this story in a notebook to remember the best of my life with my dearest. When I am done I will lock this away and hide it, hoping that one day either myself or someone else will find it one day. Whatever the liquid in this vial does, I just hope I will remain myself. I love you, Heather. I simply adore you.