Author's note: This is the edited version. Of course, it can always be more edited (and thus: better) so concrit is essential. I thank all you reviewers for this. You've all brought up many different yet helpful points on how to improve this piece and my writing. I am truly grateful. Least I could do was to fix many of the errors.

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Of a World Without Wonder

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“When morning comes, I want you to shoot me. A quick death is preferable.” the woman said with nonchalance while skilfully avoiding eye contact. Chin prodded upwards, she set her vision on the autumn and barren scenery passing them by.

Beside her in the rundown vehicle was a man. His leather gloves, decorated in fresh droplets of sinister blood, clenched the steering wheel due to the woman’s words. Perhaps they had been too harsh for him. Naturally, she did not find enough reason to care.

In between her demand and his response floated a silence that hurt her, constantly ringing in her sensitive ears. Digging her always manicured nails into her palm, she endured the pause.

“There are other ways,” he stated, killing the absence of sound. Saving her from it. Yet a stern frown appeared on the woman’s face, displeased with the lump in his throat that she managed to detect. That lump was the enemy, and she had little knowledge of how to rid it.

“The other ways do not please me.” Her selfishness seeped through, and he was all but surprised, she could tell. Instead, she was the one perplexed by his act of defiance. His job was not to question, it was to do. Had he foolishly forgotten that?

Continuing, she spoke firmly as her fingers softly stroked the end of her thin curls that had lost its glow. Age never did improve her beauty. “I know you think I’m making the wrong choice.” The observation, not question, was said while she stared at her swollen abdomen in apathy. The life inside of her was also her enemy while playing the part of a constant reminder of a degrading defeat.

Fortunately, she had at last found revenge. A life for a life. Though she was still breathing, the rotting stench from her insides could not be hidden from her knowing nostrils. However, that held little importance now. Vindication. That was all. Reminded of this, she eyed the blood on the man’s black gloves once more, feeling nothing short of satisfaction.

Lazily she raised her eyes and watched as the man’s shoulders (draped with his tattered, brown suede jacket that always looked strangely comfortable to her), slumped further into his seat. Wishing for an escape. Her left eyebrow arched, as did the left corner of her mouth, finding him to be a momentary amusement.

Fresh lines creased his brow, and she took notice, aware of what it meant. A typical sign that his mind was cocooning itself around a question to ponder. He did not respond, as he rarely did. She found his natural divorce from words slightly insulting. Focusing on him came so much easier than to let her unconscious wash over her thoughts, allowing unwanted memories to stalk.

Now came that persistent silence again. Always disturbingly present, creeping up on her at all times.

She had to dispose it.

“I’m not mad at you, though. After all, you are the only one that remains by my side.” What a pitiful fact. Even more pathetic was that she even stated it.

Gratitude had however burned itself deep inside of her. In the time prior to his entrance into her life, she was a doll that everyone played with. With him, she was a puppet master. A somewhat dependant puppet master, but an improvement was an improvement, was it not?

She was most thankful. Yet she was selfish. And neither of the two could ever forget.

“But I need you to do this for me, Hugh. Won‘t you?” The voice turned itself near pleading, even if she deemed herself to have too much dignity for such. Only an affirmative grunt was heard, barely audible over the noise the engine created. A ghost of a smile was allowed itself to haunt her lips that had no life.

“Yet I wonder,” she mused, her voice indifferent to the future without her, “Do you think it’s okay for me to die?”

He never answered.

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“What are you looking at?! Kill me!”

Obnoxious. That was what she was, and certainly what the liquid leaking from eyes was. After all these months, her stagnant and lifeless emotions had suddenly turned on her. Exploding fearlessly. Right in front of him. Hugh.

Why now?

Plagued by the sight, he was just as disturbed as she. Fearing it would create regret to be seen this way, countermeasures were taken on her behalf. The salty fluid was sloppily wiped off her face as quickly as possible, making her pleased that her mascara was waterproof.

The barrel still stared at her, its one black, cold eye now visibly hesitating. Deviating from the plan. Softly shaking up and down in the air before cautiously detracting itself from her forehead, leaving a regretful gap.

Then, without mercy, salvation removed itself from her while her insides grew cold in fear.

She called out his name while breathless from the betrayal. He was not moved by it. “I can’t possibly do this myself! You know that!” The words were spat out in a voice that was now uneven. Shaky. Revealing the begging that had been so carefully hidden before.

Now in the open, disgracefully so, her knees resided on the cheap motel room‘s floor while slowly inching forward to him. Hugh’s eyes stared down at the emotionally fallen woman. Contemplating and cold.

“Did it ever occur to you there might be a reason for that?” he suggested with a taunting ease to slap her face with, while she struggled to even look at him without her defences crumbling.

Absent of hesitation and with a look of defiance, she took a hold of the barrel and pushed it to her forehead. Proving herself. Absent of fear, her eyes met his. She could feel that his hand, still holding onto the weapon, wished to retreat.

She did not let it. She would not. No, never.

“I’m ordering you! Do it!” she roared while glaring sharply. But she was unable to cause even the smallest flinch. All gained was him just staring in an unaffected manner. Observing her with that look she hated.

That look of pity, which only worked to enrage her more.

She was losing control again. A repeat of the past where grave decisions were in the hands of someone other than her. In the back of her mind she could hear her mother scoff at her for being so weak and emotional and not at all holding the posture a woman of her status should.

Maybe she was a failure from the start.

She extended her bellowing then, her commands were numerously shouted. Yet his grip around the weapon only weakened before once again retreating. Clearly neglecting her words voiced in desperation.

Stubbornly trying to allow arrangements to proceed, she offered money. Just as a man of his profession should want from such a task. Yet his ears never seemed to take notice of her promises of endless riches. Just like his eyes refused to acknowledge the money flying in front of him in rage.

Her eyes tried to kill him for refusing to do his part of the contract. This contract to gain revenge and release. Revenge on the man who had forcefully infected her with parasitic life. He who destroyed her. Him, Hugh had no trouble eliminating. So why care now when it was time for release? Why change his mind after he had promised?

Liar. They all were, and no one could ever be trusted. Never was she considered when decisions were born. “Liars!” she screamed, crumbling around herself in pieces that no one would want to pick up. She knew this, because she could see how tainted and dirty those little fractions were. After all, who would willingly stain themselves for a broken shell?

No one. None at all.

And eventually, when her voice croaked and was too weakened to utter more words, he too fell down on his knees before her with a muted thud. The mere action terrified her, stiffened her, and raised too many questions for her liking. In an almost inexperienced manner his two clumsy arms warped around her, stunning her with amazing effect.

She quieted down as soon as she was touched, afraid of a possible panic attack. Afraid of the opportunity when he might do something and she would be unable to defend herself yet again against a man. Afraid of how such a thing would affect her once more.

Frozen due to all fears, she lost the opportunity to move her limbs to free herself. But his arms, as firm around her as they were, never claimed anything more than to hold.

For the first time in a bleak eternity, she succumbed to the chance of weakness. Pressing her face as deep as she could against his invitingly steady shoulder, her face buried itself inside the suede jacket while his gloved hands held her back without stroking.

She was thawing. Yet not trying to escape. Thus, he smiled.

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“It was unfair of you to play with my life that day.” She told the bitter words with a pleased expression as the breeze caressed her face. The start of wrinkles were apparent, despite her many surgical measures taken to deflect age. Hugh’s eyes turned to look at her and away from the small figure before them. Without needing to see, she could tell that her choice of words, and subject, surprised him.

“Play?” the man then dared to ask. She experienced no offence however, aware this was how he would react.

“Indeed. Promising me one thing, the most important thing I wanted, and then refusing me when it mattered. What else would you call it?” Her voice dressed the words as if the incident was not dear to her and that this conversation was a normal chat. Facades had always been like child’s play to her.

“You’re wrong,” he muttered as he scratched his small beard lazily.

His tired eyes squinted due to the sun, but never did they close. The sounds of waves were prominent in his pause, as was the small child’s laughter while it played with, and in, the sand not too far away. Such a faithful observant Hugh was, like a wolf over its pack.

“Oh, really?” The nonchalant question was born while she stared straight ahead and ignored him.

But there was colour. Everything had been bleak before, as if all pigments had been drained; washed off in the shower. Never had its lack of existence been noticed until after her eyes truly opened. The world and its people appeared different now.

Yet she decided to not to pay that phenomena too much attention. Following fresh trails led to unwanted roads. The one she currently travelled suited her taste just fine. For the moment, that was. Because it did not harm her.

“Yes,” he confirmed. With her interest piqued, she offered him a side glance in annoyance.

“Must you always be so cryptic the few times you actually speak?” she inquired as she pushed her sunglasses down. It enabled them to rest on her nose so the opportunity to glare was given. But she lacked the venom.

“I just did what you wanted me to.” Hugh smoothly admitted as his eyes deliberately avoided hers. “I know you told me to shoot. But your face, your eyes, didn‘t. They said that you wanted to live. Badly.” Rising up from their chosen spot, sand fell down from his figure. Transfixed, she watched his every move, lips slightly parted.

With his back turned to her, he murmured softly, “You just never knew how to.”

Approaching the child in front of them, he left her on her towel. So for a moment, her jaw could shake just a little in shock, her eyes could water, and her lips could create the smile that had to return.

She could see the colours so bright that they nearly blinded her. She could feel the warmth trying to pierce its way to her, burning her.

Even so, she remained cold. And her lips rejected the curve that was not meant to be before she scoffed at herself, at him, and at everything else that mattered.

So she spoke, if only to herself, “Yes, Hugh… But after all these years, I still don’t know how.”

However, now it was his turn to smile. Because he was selfish, and so was she, and neither would ever forget.

For in the end, all that mattered was who’s will prevailed.

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The End

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Reviews are delightful, constructive criticism will be cherished and general comments are to be nurtured. Fire away! As long as I get a feeling of how this turned out (ie, too sappy/dark/boring?) I will be happy. Don't be afraid to point out nit-picky errors either. I only wish to improve.