Before you read on, be aware that there is vulgar language that is presented. Please read at your own risk.
Sweat dripped from her forehead. Her wrists were bound tightly behind
her head. The black mass of her hair lay frazzled about. Her breathing
was labored as she pushed her hips up roughly into his, savoring the
depth it reached him to. She could feel his lips on her neck, his hands
burning their prints into her breast as they played with the soft lumps
of flesh. A quiet whimper followed a satisfied groan as he withdrew
himself from her.
Opening her eyes, She watched as he dragged his naked form
across the room. The digital clock on their dresser read two in the
afternoon. He was due to classes in an hour. “I’m not done.” It
all came out as an unsatisfied whimper; her hazel eyes searching his
dark brown orbs. When he didn’t reply, She wiggled her hips to get
his attention. “I’m not finished.” She muttered when he looked back at
her, now fully dressed.
His gaze was icy and sent shivers down her spine. “You can finish
yourself off, I need to get ready.” Biting down on her bottom lip, She weighted her options.
“Could you at least remove the handcuffs?” the expression she received
from Him told her that his answer was going to be a no. And it was
just that. Frustrated and still wet from when he left her, She just
rested her head on the pillow that was beneath her. She heard Him leave the room and rummage around a bit. When he crossed back over the
threshold of their bedroom, she could only see the pen and piece of
paper he carried in one hand it wasn’t until she saw him drop the paper
on her slightly curved tummy that she noticed the pistol in his other
hand. “…?” she questioned him nervously.
A sadistic smile found its way to his lips. The look in his eyes told her this wasn’t her sweet man she met back in just her junior
year of high school anymore. This was a monster. Placing the pistol
firmly to her temple, he commanded she take the pen and paper. “My
darling, you are about to write your suicide note.” It didn’t
even sound like his voice. As he told her what to write, she quickly
scribbled on the paper messily. She added in her own blessings and
words; apologizing to everyone she loved dearly.
'My loving family,' she wrote, her script fuzzy and hard to read.
'I fear that I must write you as to why I have done this horrible deed
to myself. It has been my lack of love and inspiration for life that
has driven me to the point of insanity. Every day I went on like this,
praying that it would somehow take a different route; maybe become
clearer in my mind as to why I am wanted on this earth. But alas, I
could not find that reason.'
On she wrote, adding the tiniest of detail he didn’t tell her
to write. It seemed like forever as he told her to add this or make
sure she wrote that. Tears threatened to spill over and down her cheeks
as she kept on writing. She knew what topic she needed to become known
next.
'He does not know I have planned to rid myself of this world. He
has been my dearest love and strongest supporter from the day we met.
He knew my past and was not afraid to take that and love me for more
than I am. What none of you know – especially my dear man – is that
I am was pregnant. After weighing my options, as well as the ones that
concerned our child, I cannot fall from the still-rising depression…
Mother, I know he wanted this baby girl inside of me as much as I
wanted her. But I could not keep her whilst getting rid of myself. I
was just barely eight weeks along. She wouldn’t have survived without
me.
To my man, you did not do this to me for I did it to myself. You
did not hand me the gun and tell me to shoot myself in my head…
On her letter went to tell of past memories she missed. Of past lovers
who she had scorned because they had messed with her life. If it
weren’t for him, mother, I may just still be here at this moment. I may
be alive, anticipating the birth of my daughter. Of his daughter.
If he hadn’t thrown me farther into that well, I may have had the
strength to get out and recover. The tears finally began to spill over
as she tried her hardest to contain her vision to finish up the letter he recited to her. The pen was wobbly, but she remained silent as
she listened to her lover’s hate-filled words towards her.
Mother, I am so sorry I took the coward’s way out. It was probably
shameful finding me lying there with my clothes removed and a bullet
shot through my head. To my unborn darling angel, Mommy is sorry that
she had to rid the world of a presence not yet known. You would have
excelled in everything. I give my love to all of you. Let my soul rest
with you at night. Protect you all from harm, especially those who I
cared about most. You are all my shining stars. To all the love that I
received, I give back to you, for all the years we got to cherish and
spend. My family, my friends, my love, I love you all so dearly.
Love..
She bit her lower lip as she signed the letter with her birth given
name. She looked up at him and pleaded with him to come to his
senses. Her muttered pleas fell on deaf ears. What else could she do?
“darling,” he softly began. For a moment, it sounded like his voice.
There may have been hope still. “You are going to wait until I reach my
car.” His voice was back to being cold and flat. It showed off no
emotion. His eyes grew fierce with his continuation of what he wanted
her to do. “When you hear my engine start, you are going to pull that
trigger and shoot yourself.” The sadistic smile flew back onto his
face. “And if I don’t hear that gun shot, I swear to God I will come up
here and kill you myself.”
All the poor girl could really do was sit there and nod at his
response. She watched his footsteps until there were out of the
room. I can’t do this… what about the baby? The question rattled
off in her head. He wanted her. He told me he wanted her. But
still, she looked at the gun. She hesitated before she brought it to
her right temple. I love you my man. And I love you my
angel. It was the last thing she thought.
He bound down the stairs quickly with a smile proudly placed on
his face; smug that his plan was going to be effective and that it fell
right into place. He would get the house; he would get her money; he
would also relieve himself from her. Closing the door, he locked it
like he and her would do every day and he went to his Grand Prix.
“Good morning.” Said The old woman that lived across the street as she stuck her head out of the garden. Her face was covered in wrinkles
that told of past stories. Growing up as a teenage with her first love.
And a marriage that lasted up until her partner passed away just under
a year ago. She and Him had attended the funeral service for him. He gave a friendly smile to the old woman and gave her a pleasant
hello back. “Where is she today, out sick?” She questioned out of
genuine curiosity.
“Yes. She came down with a small bug. She’s been throwing up for the
past few days. She called out of work this morning.” The woman gave him
a kind smile and bit the man adieu. “Have a nice afternoon, Mrs.
Hayes.” Opening the door, he got in and took out his keys. Starting his
ignition, he waited a few brief seconds before he growled out loud and
got back out. He didn’t hear the gun shot. “Shit.” He muttered a little
louder than was necessary so that it seemed he had misplaced something
he needed before classes started. When he looked at Mrs. Hayes, he
chuckled and said, “I forgot my Writing notes” before going back inside.
Closing the deep oak door of their house, he raced up the stairs,
fuming that she had not done what he commanded. Crossing the doorway to
their room, he went over to the bed and pulled her black hair
roughly. “What the fuck?” He screamed at her. “I told you
to shoot yourself when you heard the engine start.”
She was inches to being in hysterics. “I can’t do it.” She told him.
“I just can’t kill myself. I’m past that speed bump in my life. His brown eyes grew black with rage. Letting go of her hair, he
took the gun from her frail fingers and pushed the barrel of the pistol
deep into her temple. “That hurts…” she whimpered to him. That brought
on another fit of rage as he began to pull the trigger. But he stopped.
He had to make her do it. He had to make it look like she committed
suicide. He tossed the gun on the bed between her legs for the time
being.
Through grit teeth, He responded. “I don’t fucking care. You are
to shoot yourself you damn bitch.” Taking a deep breath, he
continued on with his rant. “I can’t believe I dealt with you this
long. I let you take over me, turn me into your slut, and use mw. Why
did I let myself get this deep in feelings for a cunt? You’re a slut. It’s all you’ll ever amount to. All you want is sex. What
happened to love?” Tears poured in rivers down her cheeks as angry
tears threatened to present themselves in his. “Just a goddamn cunt…” he muttered angrily before he retold her to shoot herself.
Still, she tried to hang on tight with the two words she’d been
telling him. “I can’t.” For a long while, she just took the pain,
letting him call her all of the nasty words he told her – calling her
useless, a whore, a cunt, a nuisance to life all around. All the while,
all she kept saying was “I can’t; I’m sorry.” Suddenly, she couldn’t
take it from him anymore. All the things he was saying to her. All the
things he must have meant. Finally, she gave it. With red eyes and
tear-stained cheeks, she used her feet to grab the gun and placed in
on her stomach just above her womb. “Fine… I’m a cunt. I got it.
I’m a whore; I’m useless. I’ll finish myself off like you asked me to.”
With that, he gave a hearty smile once more and handed her the gun.
He left the room once more and walked down the stairs without ever
looking back at his girlfriend. He dug in his pocket and took out a
small box. Opening it, it held a ring. He was going to ask her to marry
him, but that was all in the past now. He shut the door once more and
locked it. He had spent twenty minutes arguing with the bitch and was
going to make him late. He’d be on time if he speed just a bit though.
He put the key back into the ignition. Turned it on slightly so he
could hear the radio and look at the time. Half past two. He
turned his car on fully and only moments later, heard the gun shot.
With a smirk, he got out of his car. Looking behind him, he saw Mrs.
Hayes come out from her garden, a worried look on her face. He
figured this would be the best time to act out the grieving boyfriend
and turned his smirk into a concerned look. Leaving his car on, he
dashed for the door once more.
“!” he screamed. Feeling the old woman right on his tail, he
raced up the stairs to quickly remove the handcuffs from his ex-lover.
Hearing the footfalls of Mrs. Hayes, He screamed her name as
if he had just found her. He began to cry and slumped over his dead
girlfriend, pulling out the ring and placing it neatly on her finger.
Then he just sat there, holding her in his arms as if she were still
alive and comforting her. “please… please don’t be dead.”
He heard the frightened gasp of the woman standing behind him. The
tears that had threatened to fall earlier made their way down his
cheeks. “Oh dear…, I’m so sorry honey.” Letting go of the dead
girl, he walked over to Mrs. Hayes with a bloodstained shirt. He
welcomed the genuine hug and concern. “Why would the poor girl do this
to herself?” All he could do was shrug. When the old woman finally
let go, he grabbed the phone and called for an ambulance. He then
called her mother and then her brother.
It was then that he grabbed the note with her fuzzy script from writing
in the air. His eyes skimmed over the note, looking much like he had
told her to write it. Until he got to one part. “S-she was pregnant…”
he said, sheer genuine breaking through his mask. He had killed his
daughter. At the voicing over the death of his unborn child, the
elderly woman moved over to his side. The tears became real. The
guilt became real. The loss and sadness all became authentic. The mask he had held over his features had dissolved.
He heard the sirens of the ambulance and police arriving. Not soon
after, her family came to comfort the grieving man. They had
learned of his daughter that she had been carrying. He watched the
love he has killed be taken away from him. He felt disconnected from
what was happening now and searched for a time they had been both
happy. It had been hard, but he went all the way back to their high
school prom and graduation. From that time to the first year living
together, they were both happy – content – with each other. They both
were carefree and finally became more comfortable around one another – her more than him. She could say things she never could when
they were still in high school, making love with each other in her bed.
She had come so far… and he took it all away because he was selfish.
With only a few sentences and name-callings. His lover’s suicide…
turned out to be a double homicide no one would find out about. Ever.
