The Argument
I cower in the corner as he continues to scream at me. I keep repeating to
myself "He loves me, I know that he does."
But it doesn't seem to work. Finally I muster the courage to get up.
"STOP IT!"
He falters and takes a step back.
"What did you say?" he whispers menacingly.
"I said to stop and shut the fuck up, everything is not always my fault.
Why don't you take some fucking responsibility for once?"
Suddenly there is a knife at my throat.
"Say that again bitch".
I move, too fast for him to react. My foot rises and meets his groin He
staggers backwards into the wall. I then grab the knife out of his hand
and thrust it into his chest. Warm crimson blood flows over my hand.
Suddenly I let go of the knife, horrified at what I had just done. His
warm body slides down the wall leaving bloody streak marks.
Panic flows over me, I had just killed him. I stare at his limp body, his
eyes, still wide in shock. I start shaking uncontrollably. I have to
leave, now. The neighbours would have surely heard our row and may have
contacted the police! I grab my bag and flee. I run for hours not knowing
where I am going. Then I realise, I am a criminal. I can never go back.
I find a place to stay for the night just across the border, but I don't
sleep. I think about him all night. I think, and plot. Morning comes and
I am ready. I do not miss him; he was never good for me. I leave; ready
to start my new life.
"Shit," I whisper as I sit bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat. He is
still asleep next to me, alive and well. I get up, shower and make myself
breakfast. I pack up my stuff into a duffle bag and go back to the
bedroom. I gaze at him. He wasn't good for me. He isn't good for anyone.
I rummage in my bag and find what I need. I draw the blade swiftly across
his neck, letting the blood spill on the pillow. Then I go downstairs, out
the door and lock it behind me. I look into the sunrise and smile.