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I can tell she is trying to say something, but I won’t listen to her. I don’t want to hear her voice ever again. I squeeze harder until I know she is struggling for air. Tears roll down the side of her face, running down onto my hands. I feel small hands slapping at my bare chest, her tiny nails digging into the skin as she fights for another breath.
I should kill her right now… All I’d have to do is keep squeezing her delicate throat a little longer. Her creamy white cheeks are already turning a deathly blue, and her eyes are starting to drift closed. I know in my mind it won’t take much more. Just a little bit longer and I’ll never see her beautiful smile again, or the way she looks when she falls apart. Just a little longer and she won’t be mine anymore, and I can rid my life of the stain she’s left on my soul.
And yet I pull away, releasing her throat finger by finger, before shoving her to the unforgiving floor. I hear the slap of her skin against the concrete, but I don’t care. I can’t. She’s betrayed me. She’s made me weak.
I am weak. I can feel it.
I can’t kill her. I can’t fucking do it.
She takes in a sharp breath, filling her lungs. She wheezes as if she can’t suck in enough air. Her hands clutch her chest, and she curls up on her side. I clench my fists, willing myself to point the gun at her and pull the trigger.
But I can’t. I fucking can’t and it kills me inside to know that I’ve let her get under my skin. That I’ve fallen in love with someone only for them to hurt me in the worst way. I stand there watching her as she lays on the cold floor, her eyes closed, sobs wracking her body.
“If I could fucking kill you, I would, but since I can’t, I’ll just make your life a living hell, taking from you every single thing you’ve taken from me. This time, I won’t have mercy on you… not one fucking bit.” Before she takes another breath, I’m walking out of the room.
“Take her to the cell,” I order, before slamming my fist into the wall in front of me. The pain of the impact radiates up my arm. It hurts, but not as bad as the fucking muscle beating inside my chest.
Fuck love. Fuck life.
I walk up the stairs, forcing myself to keep going instead of turning around, because if I turn around and go back down the stairs, I’ll end up killing her. Even though I’m angry, that would be my biggest mistake ever. I can get my revenge on her in other ways. Besides ending her life would be the easy way out.
I let the anger inside of me fester, and by the time I make it upstairs and into the bedroom, I’m ready to explode. This room, my bedroom that I fucking shared with her. I want it gone. I want everything gone.
It still smells like her. Her unique scent lingers, clinging to everything in here. I need to destroy everything that reminds me of her, everything of hers, everything she’s touched or even looked at. I want to erase her from my life, from my fucking mind.
I start at the dresser, pulling out all the drawers and throwing them out in the hallway. Clearing out everything one by one. The nightstands, every last item of clothing in the closet. I throw it all out. I rip the sheets off the bed and flip the mattress over. It’s not enough. I start kicking the dresser, over and over again until there is nothing left but a pile of fucking wood, but my anger is still uncontrollable.
With nothing left to destroy in this room, I start punching the wall. Bones crunch with every punch but I’m past the feeling of pain. Blood covers the wallpaper quickly. Leftover blood from the torture session is mingling with my own blood as I punch into the unforgiving wall until my arm gives out. I fall to my knees and let my face fall into my hands.
How did this fucking happen? How did I not see this?
I shake my head. Ransacking my mind for clues that I’ve missed. She never gave me a reason not to believe her. Everything she ever did seemed so fucking genuine. I lower my hands and look at them. They are swollen and covered in blood. I need a fucking shower, to rinse away the evidence of her betrayal. I force myself back on my feet and drag myself into the bathroom.
The light flickers on, and my eyes move over the bathroom. There are pieces of her littered throughout the bathroom as well. My eyes gloss over the counter, as I start to undo my belt, and that’s when I see it.
