His body was cold, really cold. I put my arm around him, but he never moved. As I kissed the back of his neck, I felt something sort of wet and sticky on my fingers. I lifted my hand. It was covered with blood.
“Adam!” I screamed.
I sat up and looked at him and then at my hand once more. Slowly I touched him. I shook him, but he never moved. Carefully I eased him over onto his back. His neck and chest were covered with deep, dark red blood. His throat had been slit in the night. He was dead.
I shook him again in my panic.
“Please wake up Adam… please…. Wake up!”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I just knelt there and stared at him for several minutes.
“No – o – o – o…,” I wailed.
Finally the realization of what happened hit me. I wa
