January 2, 1615 - Madrid

     I try to avoid this place. There is too much old death to make it pleasing. But this is where he is. Because of me. I kneel down close to the little tombstone and run my fingers over the name I stole. But this name is not the only thing I claimed from him. I also took his life, all six years of it. In that moment, I looked into his blank eyes and saw what I had become. I saw the monster I didn't want to be. I had taken his life but he had given me back mine in the process. Never again has a child’s blood touched my lips.

     I lay my flowers along his grave as a tear rolls from my cheek and drops onto the ground. Whispering my apologies, I stand up to leave but I will be back because this is where he is. Because of me.