Yep it's official she's dead, or so the detective told me. I couldn't believe it, she was gone... I never got to say goodbye and tell her how much she meant to me. There were parts of me that wanted me to die, and parts that didn't. I wanted to die so I could see her smiling face one last time. The other part was scared of dying, I only had five months until I would be lethally injected with poison and killed instantly. I guess that's better than being hanged or the electric chair. Five months felt like five days for me. I wasn't ready to die. I wanted to explore the world with her in my arms. I wanted to get to have children and get married. I know I wasn't perfect but I was willing to change. That picture of her dead body disturbed me and made me sick to my stomach, after all the lives that I took no wonder why everyone thinks I'm a scumbag. I laid on my prison bunk and stared at her picture. I took it and slipped it into my pocket. She wasn't gonna leave my sight not, not ever. Even though she may be dead and gone I'm still going to protect her and act like she's still alive. She changed the way I thought and the way I acted in the world. She's the reason why I stopped killing in the first place. Can't you understand love? I told the reporter as he looked at me. "I understand your love for her and I can feel your regret." The man said as he tapped his pencil on his pad of paper. "I'm too young to die Sir." I told the reporter as I shed a tear. I know what I did was horrible but I'd take life in prison any day than the lethal injection." I cried as his face softened. "Do you still have her picture?" He asked me. "Of course I do, I keep it right here in my pocket." I said as I took it out and put it on the table. "Listen carefully kid, I'm only gonna tell you this once and once alone, I may talk the judge into letting your sentence to a lighter one. I can't promise it'll work but just wait and I'll be back on Tuesday." He told me. My eyes filled with tears as I grabbed my photo of her off the table and was escorted back to my cell. My cell mate looked about two or three years older than me. He had been put her for stealing a 1 billion dollar army tank and for blowing a hole through a local grocery store. His name was Zayn, Zayn Malik. Zayn didn't talk much but when he did it was mostly to me. "Did they find your girl?" He asked as he did pull ups using the bed bar as a lift. "She's dead Zayn... Someone killed her!" I cried as I slammed my hand against the cold concrete wall. "I'm sorry dude, that sucks. At least you didn't see her suffer in pain." Zayn said as he jumped down and looked at me. "What was her name again?" He asked me flopping down on his bunk. "Her name was Katherine." I said as I sighed. "When I get out of here if I do... Even as a ghost I will still make her killers life a living hell." I growled. "Four months pal. I'm gonna miss you." Zayn said as he patted my shoulder. "I'm gonna miss you too buddy." I said as hugged him. Zayn then hugged back as I cried. "I don't want a last meal, I want her!" I said as I flopped onto my bunk. "She definitely  was a beauty, eh bro?" Zayn pointed out. "Yeah she was, and she was gonna be mine for life. I wanted to marry her. But she's gone now.. And I'm stuck here.. In a cell block with a bunch of other psychopaths unlike you and I." I said as I looked at my tattoo. "What's that represent?" He asked me as two angel wings with a halo on top showed on my left arm. "Oh this... I got it in memory of her, after all she was an angel." I said with a smile. Four months left until I die. I wasn't ready to leave this earth. I was actually secretly horrified to die. I wanted to die of natural causes not being strapped to a bed being injected with poison.. That's not the way I wanted my story to end. But all stories don't have a happy ending do they? Mine should.