So this is what I see as a better version of 'A killer in love'... it's longer but I think it's better. Let me know what you think? and thanks for taking the time to read my story thing :)
He was my Love
Growing up was rough. I didn't have a chance to be a child; or rather I was robbed of that privilege. I really didn't have any other choice, my parents insisted on acting like children; at least that's how I remember it. Graduated from a small, almost non-existent school, but none the less I am proud to say I graduated somewhere in the top of my class. Went to a university shortly after and well, that's where my life started.
I was a junior in collage, was having fun living off campus. My two part time jobs were great. Granted neither one paid very well but they were fun, the money was just enough to get me through things.
I had developed a crush on one of the professors, surprisingly enough though he was around the same age as me. Ok, so he was from a nearby military college, not really one of my professors, but still. He had come in to show one of my classes something, I wasn't really paying attention due to him being present.
As time went on, I noticed him around campus more often. Apparently he noticed me noticing because we started to go out for coffee every now and then. We would talk about nothing and everything; our voices seemed to capture the little coffee shop when we had conversations about religion, politics, science and our dreams for the future. It seemed like everyone was listening in on us, but we never cared. From our discussions I found we liked the same simple things except our one biggest disagreement; music. I would argue that heavy metal and rock were one of the best musical genres because the lyrics had a political notion to them, plus I just adored Metallica (James Hetfield, sweet Jesus he is gorgeous!) He argued that his mixture of classical and new age music were better because they gave a sense of relaxation or a type of time out from reality. I also found out I was right about him being around my age, he was five years my senior.
Anyway, life was good; it got better when I was finally able to get the requirements needed for an understudy at the NY Times and the Marines. I had to explain to him that the NY Times was just a backup plan in case I didn't get to be a Marine. I also explained that I had fallen for the idea of the Marines a long time ago. How it sounded and the air they seemed to carry with them, even after leaving the corps. He didn't like the idea though; we had been dating for a few months now. He told me with that deep rumble one night as we just sat there and watched a classic horror film, "It's dangerous." He went on to explain that my smile was "too perfect to waste out as sea like this; with no one but the ocean" and those 'brutes' as he called them to see it. He said they were "just too rough and didn't have a gentle bone in their body to handle such a precious gem." I just laughed at his hopeless romantic talk and teased him about it for a few more days. He didn't seem to mind though, he just smiled sheepishly, said it was the right way to treat such a "beautiful goddess such as you" and then kiss me. From then on he would whisper; "Whatever you choose, I'll be waiting right here for you, il mio amore."
I ended up taking the NY Times opportunity. I didn't tell him though because well, the Marines weren't until a few more years later.
When those few years passed by, life was still treating me good. Ended up letting the Marines pass me by, how could I leave him behind? The look on his face when I snuck up on him was just priceless.
"Why aren't you in there finishing up your registration?" he asked, completely shocked. "I'm not going." Is all I stated before turning and heading back inside our usual little coffee shop; it was autumn and the cold bitter wind just wouldn't quite. He followed close behind.
"So, what are your plans now?" He asks while trying to sneak glances my way.
"Oh, I don't know. Mayhem fest is coming up, the mosh pits are always fun. Then there's that party… when is it, Halloween or something like that? Anyway, we could go to that."
"You know what I mean. What are you going to do with your life? And yes it's on Halloween, the mosh pit? You aren't really thinking of getting tickets for there are you? Besides that, I still have no idea why you like that kind of music so much."
After that last statement we started one of our usual discussions on music and it's relation to politics. His warm breath leaving white clouds as he talked, it kind of reminded me of my childhood. How on days like this I would go out and imitate Father as he smoked. Snapping myself of this memory I quickly thought of the ideas that played in my head at night, wanting to answer his question quickly as I usually did.
"Um, I was thinking of finishing college. NY Times has called me back several times; apparently one of the big boys wants me there." I said with a flip of my hair. He just smiled and laughed lightly.
"Do you have any thoughts for after that?" his smirk was one that said he knew more than he let on.
"Oh, I don't know," I let out a long sigh and watched as the light breeze cleared the air of my 'smoke', "maybe pick a minor just in case journalism ends up being a failure. Although I was entertaining the idea of settling down and…" I trailed off, feeling like a fool for even starting that sentence.
"My thoughts exactly." Then he got down on one knee and opened a small box he had taken from his coat pocket.
These simple little actions took a few seconds for me to understand, and when he noticed my slight confusion he only chuckled, his eyes flashing with a mischievous grin. He had caught me like a deer in headlights. All I could think was 'Is he really serious?'
"Will you marry me?"
Well, needless to say I said yes. We got married shortly after and quickly headed on our honeymoon (which was amazing by the way ;) ). After returning home I discovered I had to tell him about a slight situation. You see we were talking of having a baby, and well I had been feeling kind of strange… the test said positive and the doctor confirmed it. Like I said, life was good.
That is until that day. I was going to head out to my love's office to tell him the good news when Mother called. She was hysterical and I couldn't understand a word she said, until the phrase "…he's dead!..." came. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, all I could do was stare out the window and pray that she wasn't talking about who I was thinking about. She kept talking into the phone, but it all sounded and felt like slow motion for a few seconds. After the shock left what training I had gotten for the Marines set in, I told her to call the cops and hospital then to go to one of the neighbors and wait for help there. When she finally hung up to do as I said, I raced over to her house.
"Mom! Mom, where are you?" was the first thing I called out when I got there. The door was hanging on by one hinge. I realize now that I rushed in, not thinking things through like the fool I was.
"Mom, I'm here, don't worry." I stated this to the empty room that greeted me. The living room looked like it had just suffered from one of my parents well known parties. But I could tell it wasn't, Father never let anyone destroy his home like it was here.
"Oh, oh God please! Please, don't do this! Nooo!" It was Mother's voice, it came from upstairs.
I jumped into action silently, thanking God that I had taken all those training courses. I grabbed one of the bats my Uncles would leave in the closet below the steps. He left it "just in case" he would always say. Father never like guns, and wasn't much of a fighter. He believed in the greater good of humanity. Fortunately, Uncle didn't and left us a metal bat, it wasn't' much but I would have to make it work. Maybe I should have grabbed one of Mother's favored knives from the kitchen as well.
Slowly, steadily, quietly I climbed the steps. My breathing sounded heavy and loud against the pounding of my heart in my ears, and all I could think was 'Who would do this? They haven't done anything to anyone except show the neighborhood a good time. It's not a crime to share what little you have with those you care for, especially when it's just joy that's shared. They have nothing to offer than that.'
These were my thoughts as I started to round the corner upon reaching the top of the stairs. Mother's cries of mercy seemed to fall on deaf ears; apparently this intruder didn't have a soul. My Father's lifeless body lay limp on the ground before me, my heart and mind were racing in denial.
The next thing I know, a cold metallic object had situated itself at the base of my head, I could feel the person holding it move closer to me until their breath was cool against my skin. That's when my Mother came running out of the room, eyes wide and mouth stretched in a scream of utter horror. By the looks of her wrists, she had just managed to get out of being tied up.
"Mother run! Go get help!" I yelled at her, reading my body for the fight to come.
But she just stood there, mouth agape and staring at me like a scared child. My heart broke for her.
"You know, the time we've spent together. It's been great. Your Father here was a true gentleman. He raised you right and knew how to party." The man behind me said in a whisper. I can remember thinking that he sounded familiar but I just couldn't place it.
That was actually my last thought, and then I turned around. That was a bad move on my part, but I had the bat already swinging as I turned. I should have definitely grabbed a knife.
A sudden sharp pain paralyzed me then, half way in my turn. I dropped hard to the floor and just stared up at him.
"Our time together is up now though, so I'll be taking this beautiful ring. I'll make sure it goes to a beautiful wielder, although I doubt I'll find one quite like you, il mio amore." He said as he kneeled down by my side, his face covered by the shadows.
Then everything went black.
When I woke up, things were strange. I could see Mother sobbing into a cops shoulder. I knew the cop, she was a good friend of mine. We had grown up together actually. She had a comforting arm around my Mother, trying to calm her down.
I called out to her, when she didn't react I figured she just couldn't hear so I called out again, a little louder this time though. I then figured it was just the shock setting in.
Walking over to her I got sidetracked by three men talking. Looking their way I noticed they were cops as well. One was saying how tragic this incident was.
He said "I don't know how anyone can be…" his voice trailed off as if he was distracted by a dream. His hazel eyes were glossy as he tried to hold back tears.
I knew these men, didn't I? Yea, they came to a few parties a couple of times. They were real good guys, we became friends rather quickly.
"I know what you mean. That sick bastard, what did they have that he wanted so badly? God, nothing in this house is worth anything of real value." Said another, he was shortest of the three and was well built. I think at one point Mother was teasing me about him having a crush on me. And if I hadn't been with my love then I would have been all over that to I told her. She only laughed and said "That's my girl."
"How are we gonna catch this guy? This is the fith time this month. I mean, all the ways to get this guy will be thrown out." The last cop said after a few moments pause, his voice uneven as he tried to burry his sorrow. "Plus we have no real lead.
"It doesn't matter, we HAVE to catch him. We cannot allow any more families to suffer like this, we have to stop him." Said my once upon a time crush, the other two nodded in agreement.
I went home shortly after, I have to say it felt like a dream.
The next day went on as usual. Well, until everyone started ignoring me; even the cashier at the coffee shop. Then he came in, my love. I thought he could explain things, but he just kept walking on like he didn't even see me. My heart felt like it was falling and I could feel the bitter sting of tears.
What happened? Did I do or say something wrong?
I followed him like I usually would when he gave me the silent treatment. He can't ignore me all day, it's not like him to be this disconnected. Maybe I should have told him about that incident at my parents. Which reminds me; I should call Mother and see how she's doing. I bet she misses Father.
He hadn't talked to me all day. He just kept ignoring me. Then I noticed something I hadn't before. It was a ring my Uncle had given me before he went off to study abroad. 'You're never too old to learn something new" he always told me. Mother would tease him about studying abroad every time he came to visit. It was white gold trimmed with yellow god, and a beautiful deep royal blue star of India. I don't remember taking it…
Then everything made sense; the cold steel at the base of my neck, Mother's scream and the blackness. I remember yelling at Mother to run and get help, falling in slow motion and the ring slipping off. I remember when she didn't move to get help; I tried to get the upper hand. I had hit him just below the rib cage as I fell I think. I remember him telling me about finding another wielder just as beautiful for that ring, though he doubted he could. I remember my love's phrase being repeated to me "…il mio amore."
This man, the one I thought I loved, was my killer. How could I be so blind? I should have seen this, but how? He was so kind and gentle, how, why? My mind raced as my mouth opened in a horrifying scream.
All he did was slightly cringe at the whispered echo. Were those tears in his eyes?
Later on, when he finally when home after work I followed him with silent anger.
"You!" I growled, finally unable to keep my temper in check. "How could you?" I yelled as he slowly peeled away his clothes. The shower running as swirls of warm mist curled around us.
"I'm sorry il mio amore. I'm so sorry." He whispered.
"How could you! I thought you loved me!"
He quickly turned around then, his shirt lying on the ground, I could tell he was working on getting his pants off. The buckle was undone and they were now barley hanging on the edges of his hips. I could see his batman boxers, the ones I always teased him about. "I did love you! I'm so sorry…"
"Wait, you can see me, hear me?" I interrupted him.
He only sighed heavily "Yes I can. You've been following me all day. It's quite difficult to work when you do that."
"Well, good I'm glad I make your day difficult." A small uncomfortable pause drifted into the space around us.
"I really didn't want to you, or your Father. I had no choice…"
"Of course you had a choice! By the way, why did you do this?"
Always impatient, if you'll let me finish?"
"Go ahead, I'm listening."
He just stood there for a few seconds, just staring at me. "You know, you always looked cute when you were mad." I just glared at him. "Oh right, sorry. Well I don't really know how to tell you this. An authority I can't turn down gave the orders. Trust me, if it were one of the other guys who had done this you would be mad that it wasn't me."
"Wait, what are you talking about? You're a professor at the college."
"Yea, about that." He laughed nervously, that sheepish grin I had come to know and love when he's lying was starting to melt the ice on my heart. "Let me put it this way. Do you remember reading the book 'Saint' by Ted Dekker?"
"My situation is similar to that. And the 'college' I work at, it's more of a training ground for us. Had you gone into the Marines you would have met the team, we were going to do a job with them."
I just started at him like an idiot. He chuckled lightly as my expression changed to shock.
"What? So you're saying that I married a lying, murderer?"
"That's a harsh way to put it, but I suppose it fits. My boss doesn't like for his 'team' to get emotionally attached to others. So when he found out about us, he obviously didn't take it too well. Oh, and your Father's alive by the way. I called your Mother earlier today before I left to work."
"He is? Then why did you kill me?" I ask, still mad at him for lying and doing all of this.
"The gun was supposed to be filled with blanks. But I guess one of my coworkers though it would be fun it was like Russian Rolette…"
"Ah…" is all I could say. What was I supposed to do or say? He had no choice he said, and I believe him when he said he didn't mean to kill me. "I had something to tell you that day…"
His face slightly picked up, a small smirk played on his lips despite the awkward silence. "Oh? And what did you want to tell me?"
The shower was still running, the swirls of mist covered the mirrors with fog and danced around my love. The bitter sting of tears was at the rims of my eyes, I didn't know the dead could cry. "I'm pregnant."
I whispered the phrase as I put a light hand on my stomach. I could feel the hot tears even more persistent as I just stood there, head bowed and hand on my stomach. When I finally looked up, he had gone completely pale.
Those two simple words, 'I'm pregnant' seemed to echo in the large bathroom until he finally moved.
"No, no this can't be. No! No, I couldn't have!" was all that he whispered, I could see tears at the rims of his eyes.
I desperately wanted to reach out and comfort him, but I felt rooted to where I stood. The swirls of mist were starting to disappear due to the hot water running out.
In the end all I could do was whisper "I love you."
And that was the last phrase I could manage, then I faded into the past. Set on a shelf somewhere in his mind to gather dust and eventually to be forgotten in time.
But for now, I just left him there, in tears; with no way to comfort him or go back to say anything more.
He was my love, the father of my unborn child. He was going to be a good father, everyone could tell. But now, we'll never find out for sure.
He was my killer, but in the end I could forgive him…
Because I loved him.