"I just came by to tell you, it's over." He lowered the eyes I knew
so well to the ground and ran his fingers nervously through his auburn
"Why?" I asked. He didn't answer me, because he didn't have to. I already
knew the answer.
I tried looking away, so I wouldn't have to look at him so I could
control my tears. It didn't help. They flowed freely down my cheeks, warm,
salty tears. He still hadn't looked at me and was jingling the keys in his
pockets. The car over in the driveway was empty, except for one single
person. And it wasn't a fellow football player.
Suddenly I felt anger coursing through me like a thousand knives. My
head spun with wild fury. All I could think of how to hurt him as bad as he
hurt me. I fixed my eyes on him and brought myself to look at the hair I so
lovingly used to caress. Its red tint seemed to be glowing, and it reminded
me of blood. My head swam with the thought. I bit down on my tongue to make
myself bleed, as I often do. I started to shake, and thinking that I was
crying again, he looked up.
I brought my hand to his face. I slapped him with such force that he
actually moved backwards. He looked at me finally, with shock in his almond
brown eyes. He clutched the side of his cheek where my hand had been.
That's when he noticed the blood.
I glanced at my hand and saw skin and blood from his handsome face. I
looked at him and saw he had a cut that was bleeding. He looked at the
blood on his hand and just stared at it. My mind was still a raging war and
I moved close to him and looked up into his face. "Are you going to answer
me?" I said with an insane smile on my face. The blood caught my eyes, and
dripped down the side of his cheek, oozing it's way to his chin. I watched
it and licked my lips at the thought of the taste.
He looked at me with more shock and then his own anger started to
brew. "Yes its over and I want you to leave me alone, you crazy bitch." He
started to turn away but I grabbed his arm and he struggled to get free,
but I held my grip. I glared at him my eyes afire and said, "It's not over
until I say it's over." And with that I let go of his arm. I heard him
mutter, "Fucking crazy bitch," as he got into his car. I smiled another
crazy grin and waved as he drove away.
"It's not over yet. Not yet." I whispered softly.
Then I walked into my house and shut the door, his warm blood still
dripping from my nails.
* * *
The blood was warm on my fingertips as I licked it. So good and
sweet, unlike my own. I dipped my hand in for more and moved my fingers in
the silky liquid. It swirled at my touch and I watched it slowly turn
around and around. I pulled my hand out, and careful not to spill a drop, I
brought it to my mouth and drank.
My divine wine ran down my throat like a magical elixir. My tongue
craved for more. I dug back into his stomach for more but found most of it
had dried. No matter, there was plenty more. I grabbed the large knife at
my side and plunged it into his chest. The precious liquid poured out, and
dripped onto the floor. I smiled, for it still was warm. I brought my lips
to it and licked at the small hole that I had made. I glanced at him, his
dead eyes stared out in surprise at me, at my little feast. I pulled my
self up slowly, like everything was in slow motion. I wiped my mouth with
my hand. I grinned madly at the mess I had made. I looked into the lifeless
brown eyes and lowered myself to his ear.
"Now it's over."