"Harlie, my love! You can't do this to me! I was anguished and distraught; absolutely adjured by competency of greed and pride. I know what I did was wrong, and I pithily apologize! But what you devour and cull cannot be returned- and we'll have to face the ramifications. Don't do this! For us."
"Your ghastly measures, your fricking rules for Christ sake! You're not mine, and not anyone else's; you just belong to yourself, you pathetic scoundrel!" Her shrill voice echoed, evidently dreading this moment for ages.
"Harlie, I never meant it. You know my friends, they made me do it. They're sturdy and pompous. They turn on each other like ravening wolves; exceedingly greedy for money and power. I am poor and relentless- they used me for fulfilling their bloody obsessions. Believe me! Don't do this, Harlie! I beg off you! We can be as opulent as them, and be as guarded and influential as them. Give me a chance!" He pleaded; falling to his knees, his eyes glimmering from the well of tears that he had poised.
"Shut up, nuisance. You were ready to step on everything that once belonged to you; nursed you, loved you. What I will do will prove as a benefit for all those who ever confided in you- I thought they were smart. But they were fools! Fools to think someone like you; someone so blinded by power, someone filled with lust of money, would actual be dependable and attested. But that's adequate, don't you think? Now people will see you as a tottering idol . Let me see as well who comes to protect you. Let the money guide you then."
Her hands pitched over her chest. She tucked in her sleeves, and raised her musket.
"Wh-en did you purchase the musket?" He asked, his body quivering with rapid notions of his unanticipated ending. But all she responded was:
"Instead of loving people and using money, people often love money and use people."
"Ple-"
"There are somethings that money can't buy... like manners, morals and integrity."
"Please, don't say this. Retrogress to the starting point; evaluate your judgments once more, for me to the least." His eyes fell to the floor- assuming that his death was nearby.
"I don't give a fuck about you anyways. There's nothing left to say."
"Harlie- honey, what's wrong with you? Don't you see, they will kill us. I'm only sheltering us. Believe me!
"No, you only did this for yourself! Stop from this mendacious propaganda. You're a fraud. Your vengeful friends are better then you, at-least they chose to reveal their spiteful reality! You're just the commended back-stabber, who betrayed us for power. You've fallen away; you've become too weak to even retain your desire. I wish- I wish I never loved you."
Tears streamed down Harlie's face, distorting her dazzling beauty. Her slim figure, and slender hands still unnerved to commit the crime that forebode of the uprising future.
"You're being harsh.." her husband perked up, and seized the gun from his wife's hand; "I warned- you!" And the musket finally fired. Petrified screams of Harlie bellowed.
"Ahh, how will you answer our son? hahahaaah" his groans swiftly countered the ears of his son, who stashed behind the walls in the shadows. His eyes piling tears of impoverished circumstances.
Harlie would have made some cutting rejoinder but none came to mind. She stood there firmly, her eyes fixed on her withering love. "Go to hell, precious."