Disclaimer: Nothing having to do with JK Rowling and or Harry Potter.
A/N: I got a crazy idea about a new story one Friday night and I decided to go with it. Please read and review. I have yet to work on my other stories but I think that this one may actually go somewhere.
It's dark. A bitter cold rushes past my cheeks. My body hurts. All tangible thought lost in the abyss of my emotions. I feel hunger, but possess no patience to get my lazy ass up and eat. Work is not going well. I hate the fact that people know about me. They stare at me like I am an animal. How can they look at me like they are better than me? They are no better than I am. Vengeance is not in me….. Or at least not in what I have become accustomed to. Daniel left last week with Horatio the cabana boy at our favorite hotel and no doubt living off of my expense account for the next month. But that is not what bothers me. What bothers me is the fact I have not slept in over a month and the one I love does not even know that I exist. Why me? Why do these things burden me? I must have been a total bitch in my last life to deserve this kind of treatment. I just wonder who I royally pissed off this time.
As I sit in this room I look at the clock on the mantle, yet the numbers are blurred to me. The cell phone I own rings without answer. I want nothing to do with this world. Leaving behind a legacy is what my mother would have wanted; yet even in death I cannot give her that. After this, my father is going to hate me and everything that I represent. I have one of two choices. I can deliver the news to him in person and have him hate me and try to kill me himself, or I can do the deed for him. Personally, I have no intention of challenging my father for I have too much respect to put my hands on him. Well my choice is clear. Who am I to argue with fate?
RING! RING!
There goes my damn phone again. Well answering one last time couldn't possible hurt anything much. Looking at the CID, I cannot recall where I have seen the number before. Some charity calling, probably asking for money again.
"Hello?"
"Yes, this is Tari Luinwe from The Love Yourself Association. I was calling to ask you a few questions. Would that be alright?" asked the American lady on the phone.
"Well, I am not in the mood to answer any questions at this precise moment. And I have heard of your organization recently from a friend. Yes, don't you deal with men and women who can't deal with their orientation? ...Yeah that's what I thought. Ms. Luinwe, I have no problem dealing with my orientation and am fully comfortable accepting who I am….. No thank you anyway. Goodbye."
They never give up. That association called me three months ago when the harassment at work started. Now they are calling me in the middle of the night. And I know why. All because of Daniel. Daniels mother ran that damn association and she was a meddling bitch. Oh well, not my problem anymore. As I walk to the kitchen, I think of all the things I would miss in this world. But none of them seem to matter now. Maybe I will sue the twelve inch…or maybe the three inch would be sufficient. Either way the job will get done. The blade is cold as ice, but the burning sensation that it caused brought relief. Then…….the blackness.
"We have severe blood loss starting from his left wrist and pooling around the arm. No other wounds except contusions on his head from the fainting spell. Pump enough into him for the night and we will check on him in the morning."
"Yes Doctor."