'And now I see her dressed in red, I want to know her heart is dead and lay her down inside my head...' (The Modern - Jane Falls Down)

'Hurry up J!' shouted Martin. Why was it, he wondered, that women take twice as long to get ready as men. Was it because their hands were so small? Maybe it was because their brains were smaller? Or perhaps it was just an eternal joke, secretly kept between females and Jane was really upstairs watching his Rocky box set which she always claimed with such venom to hate. If that was true, however, then women had a lot of these jokes, which they probably shared when they went to the toilet in groups, and the male species was a complete laughing stock. He didn't like the idea of that. Just as he began to ponder where his keys were, she came down the stairs. Martin stopped breathing. In the four years that they had been together he had never seen her look so beautiful. Her honey coloured hair shone in the soft light and her eyes had never looked so blue, like a clear summer sky, piercing into him as they did that first time he saw her; she looked like an angel. That dress. He had never seen it before; it was a deep scarlet and it clung to every inch of her, curving between her waist and hips and dipping deep into her cleavage; her creamy skin an enchanting contrast to the strong colour. 'You look gorgeous', he stammered. 'Thank you' she said kissing him. If only she knew, he thought, if only she knew how beautiful she was.

As the taxi came to a sharp halt outside the bar, Martin took a good look at Jane. She was staring out of the window like a child looking into a sweet shop, her blue eyes wide with anticipation. She grabbed his hand, she had a firm grip but she also had such a delicate softness to her touch that as he watched her gracefully get out of the car, Martin hoped that was something he would never lose.

Martin was at the bar when they came to find him. He was getting a large whiskey to steady his nerves. It was approaching midnight, New Year's Eve, the night of the proposal. Leo's cheeks were flushed and he was breathing heavily, 'Martin' he finally managed to say, 'there's been an accident.' Every nerve in Martin's body froze in that instant, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his heart seemed to stop beating in his chest. This night was not supposed to be like this, he thought as he watched his dreams shatter like glass into a million tiny pieces at his feet.

'We did everything we could for her,' the doctor was saying; Martin heard the words, but they somehow didn't reach him, they didn't penetrate the barrier that he had created around his mind. A feeling of numbness passed over him; it was as if he was the one who had been hit, not her. He thought that maybe if he couldn't feel the intense pain that was building inside of him, then maybe it didn't exist, maybe it would all go away and he would wake up with her by his side. All he could see was Jane, lying on the cold road, like some sick image of a movie that had got stuck, not moving, her hair stuck to her face, stained with blood. So much blood. It was staining the grey road red, as if she was melting from the dress out onto the tarmac beneath her. The dress was torn where she had been dragged along the road, her body exposed, grazed and bleeding, her silky white skin torn, his beautiful girl. The driver was drunk. The police said he didn't stop.

As the white coffin moved slowly down the aisle, Martin took a deep breath. What was the point of anything anymore if he couldn't have her? He couldn't visualise their wedding anymore, he used to, but now all he could see was Jane in the red dress, laughing with her hair falling about her face. Then the image would distort and twist as if in some terrible kaleidoscope into her bleeding on the road, in the hospital, in the morgue. Why couldn't he have a good memory of her? Maybe he could move on and begin to grieve if he could erase that dreadful picture from his mind. If she'd just rest in his head, if he could stop visualising the accident as he imagined it to have happened. He could see her laughing, running across the road with the wind blowing her hair out behind her and her shoes in her hand. The she would realise what was happening and let out a piercing scream, before it hit her. The contortion of metal and the breaking of glass, he could see it all as it hit her beautiful soft body. She didn't have a chance. Then he could hear himself, his own screams, which at the time he could hear coming from him, and yet he was not aware of doing anything.

Drink was the only thing that could touch the image, it made it blur and shift until you couldn't really tell what it was. The pain would go away, but not for long. It was the morning after the funeral and Martin left the house still wearing his suit, his messy hair covering his eyes and a searing pain beating inside his head. As he made his way to the off-license he could only feel anger. How could people be carrying on as normal when his life was in pieces? Why did nobody notice that the world was different now, nothing could come to any good without Jane in the world. There were so many cars, people just going about their daily business without a care in the world. He quickened his pace. What right did they have? Why did this have to happen to Jane? Wasn't she a good person? Wasn't he a good person? Martin felt a hand grab firmly onto his arm, it was a tight grip, but was somehow it had a softness and a delicacy to it. 'Careful' a voice said soothingly as a large people carrier sounded its horn at him, 'you're going to get yourself killed.' Martin jolted awake as if a bolt of lightening had shot through him, he'd nearly walked out into the oncoming traffic, but she'd saved him. He looked at the young woman standing next to him. She had long dark hair which she had tied back from her face with a piece of red ribbon. Her hazel brown eyes seemed to penetrate right through him and look straight into his soul. 'I must be your guardian angel for the day' she said laughing. Martin smiled. Inside his head, Jane had stopped screaming and calmly laid down to rest.

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