"Cut My Life Into Pieces."
(Author's Note: ::glares sideways at the Gwennicane:: SOMEBODY seems a bit eager to see Lita bite the dust. ::rolls eyes:: Anyway…here's the next installment of my best story yet.)
(Chapter title comes from Papa Roach's song Last Resort.)
***
I feel her body stir sometime in the middle of the night. She's not consciously moving, and I can just make out movement beneath her eyelids. Rapid Eye Movement. She's dreaming. Her movements become restless, spasmodic. I begin to suspect that she's having a nightmare instead of dreaming.
Then came the scream to confirm my suspicions as she bolted upright, flailing wildly as if trying to fend off some attacking monster. I react quickly, shooting myself up to grab her arms and try to calm her.
"Lita…LITA!!! Calm down. Calm down. It was a dream," I say, attempting to soothe her nerves. She looked at me, tears in her eyes, and simply broke down to nothing as she drew me into a tight embrace…burying her head into my chest. I instinctively wrap my arms around her body, and begin to rock back and forth, like a mother holding her child.
And to think…just last night I was going to use a shotgun to demolish a large part of her torso. I figure it would've been a lot like the 'firecracker in a hand' syndrome. Where if you're holding a lit firecracker in your open palm, it'll only burn you when it explodes, but if it were held in your fist, your whole hand would explode. Since the shotgun would've been shoved into her vagina, her back would've basically exploded on the sheets in a bath of blood, bone, and organs. I figure that the shock and immediate damage of the act would've caused death in less than a minute. Especially with all 8 shells fired into her at multiple angles.
I planned on doing that horrendous thing to this woman. And here I am…cradling her in my arms like a baby instead.
"I'm sorry," she says between sobs after she had calmed down a bit. "I had that nightmare, and woke you up. And I don't even remember what it was about."
"It's alright Lita. That happens to me sometimes too."
"Can we just…talk? Y'know…about random stuff? Because it's very apparent that we're not going to be able to sleep now."
I look at the clock. 2:38 AM. Just then I notice that the camcorder is still running. I had forgotten about it last night. "Do you want me to shut off the camcorder?"
"That thing's still on? No, don't bother."
"Okay. What did you want to talk about," I ask as I lay back down, bringing her back down with me.
"Ask me some questions. Anything."
I already have my first one picked out. "Why don't you think you're good enough for him?"
She looks off into the room, and doesn't waste much time with her answer. "After he and I had been dating for about two months, we were cuddling on his living room couch. He's got such great arms for cuddling…anyway. He and I began to brush softly against each other. Brushes became strokes…strokes became fondling…fondling became groping. Long story short, we didn't make it to the bedroom…"
She fell silent for a few moments as she recollected their first time, then turned to me with moist eyes, nearly ready to shed fresh tears. "I wasn't 'fresh out of the package' when I started dating him. Not nearly. There was Matt…of course. Jeff and Essa too. But before I got in the WWF…I was 25 when I got in. I lost my virginity when I was 16…nearly 10 years prior. But still, even with such experience behind me…nothing could have prepared me for him. And I believe that he even put more effort behind it because he loved me. I had 5 orgasms, three of them a result of anal. It was just so unbe-fucking-lievably good. Too good."
When she finished speaking, she took my hand and guided it to the crotch of her thong. My eyes widened when I felt how soaked it was. "You feel the reaction I have just because of the memory of that first time. It was the single best fucking I've ever had. Remember…last night when I said the fucking you gave me in the car was one of the top two I've ever had? My first time with him is number one. You were better than three men all jamming me at once. But nothing could be better than him. Nothing. Nobody."
I simply lay there in silent shock. Waiting for her to continue her story. "When we were both completely spent, he withdrew from my behind and carried me to the bed, like newlyweds going over the threshold. He kissed me, and left to take a shower and wash the shit off. While he was showering, I simply lay there, wasted, covered head to toe in a thick layer of sweat, and drowned myself in thought. I began to feel guilty for some reason that I still haven't figured out. The more my body reveled in the aftershocks of our deed, the more dread my soul felt."
She closed her eyes and turned her back to me. She lay silent for a few minutes. I didn't push her. I knew she would continue her story.
"I felt even more dread when I found out that I was only his second. I felt so terrible. He's 6 years older than I am…and he'd only been with two women, while I was 27, and had had at least 15 men before him. This didn't bother him though. He just felt such unbelievable love for me that he didn't care if I had had a thousand men before him. But I felt terrible. I mean, it was all before I met him, and I didn't even know he existed when I popped my cherry…but I just felt so bad. And, then…a week later…he made love to me. It wasn't fucking like our first time, but I felt even more pleasure when it was over. And even more sadness that I didn't wait.
"I began to feel like I didn't deserve him. Like I wasn't good enough. But I knew that he wouldn't dump me, and if I dumped him…he loves me so much. I believe that he'd kill himself if I dumped him. So…I decided to try to make him dump me."
"That's why you've been fucking so many people behind his back," I respond.
"Yeah. I told him after three months of cheating. He didn't believe me, so I began videotaping it and showing it to him." She turned back to look at me. "You have no idea how terrible it feels to do something like that to somebody you love, and hear them say 'I forgive you'. Time and time again, he said those words to me. Even while I was having fucking bi-sexual orgies and showing them to him, he would not show any anger to me. I don't even think it's hurting him at all. And it's not like he gets off on watching me fucking those strangers, not at all. He's not like that. He simply cannot show his anger to me. If he indeed does feel anger toward me, he vents it all in the ring.
"Sometimes I wish that he'd beat me to death for what I've done to him. I just want to die so badly. I really do wish that you had murdered me last night."
"I'm sorry Lita. But…if I were to kill you, I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt, because you actually feel remorse for cheating on him. 'Speed Bump' never showed anything but contempt for his feelings, that's why she is a literal speed bump now. And last night you said 'He'd be lucky to have a girlfriend such as you.' Well, if I did kill you, I know that I'd kill myself right afterward, so that whole point is moot."
"I'm thirsty. Can I go get some drink?"
"Yeah," I respond. "The kitchen is downstairs, to the right."
"Thanks." She gets up and garbs herself in the black robe before leaving the room.
***
Twenty minutes later, I hear the faint sounds of water running. It's coming from the pipes, meaning that one of the downstairs faucets is running. Curious, I put on my red robe, unhook the camera from the tripod, and walk downstairs. I turn on the light in the kitchen and remove the night-vision filter from the camera lens. I see Lita, wearing only her thong, leaning over the sink with her hands under the water. The water coming from the faucet is clear.
The water falling from her hands is red.
"LITA!!!" I cry out. I run toward her, placing the camera on the table. It's still recording. I grab her arms and pull her away from the faucet. I look in the sink and see a steak knife with large bits of flesh between its teeth. I see that there's a lot of blood in the sink. I look at Lita, who has slumped against a chair at the table…my eyes shooting along her arms.
She had slashed her wrists. The water from the faucet had been running into her wounds…making the blood flow faster. She wobbled back toward me, and pushed her arms past me, trying to put her cuts back under the flow of water. I turned off the water and sat her down into the chair that she slumped against.
"Lita…why?" I demand, my eyes becoming moist.
"You know why," she weakly responded. Her skin was already cold to the touch.
I remember what she said from the night before.
***
"The only reason I haven't killed myself to free him from me is because I know how much it would pain him. He would think that he somehow didn't love me enough…when in fact he loves me too much for his own good."
***
"This will only hurt him," I say with desperation. I run to a cabinet and pull out a first aid kit. I open it to pull out the rubbing alcohol and some gauze…but she uses a last reserve of strength and kicks the kit out of my hands, sending the supplies flying throughout the kitchen. She falls out of her chair and curls up on the floor…the blood continuing to flow from her wounds.
"No. I want to die. I need to die. He'll mourn me…I know…but this is better than constantly not believing that I'm good enough. My pain, my guilt, my sins against him…will all be washed away by nothingness."
My heart breaks as I hear the weakness in her voice. "NO!!! Don't you dare give up on yourself, on him, or on me! Do you hear me? Please…let me help you."
"You want to help me?"
"Yes!!! Please."
"Then…carry out…my final request."
I cry as I realize that she wants no part of trying to stay alive.
"What is it you want me to do?" I say…giving up on trying to make her come to her senses.
She slowly brought her hands to my head, cupping my face in them. They felt so terribly cold. I could smell the coppery scent of her blood as it flowed down her arms.
"Don't let him…mourn me…alone. Become what I…never could be. Worthy of his passion. Worthy of his love."
"He's going to want to know how I knew you. I'm going to your wake," I say.
She motioned to the table. "Then…show him…this tape. Not immediately, but when you think he's ready…for the truth."
Her arms fell down to her sides. I knew it couldn't be long now. "Promise me," she begged.
I lean down and take my last kiss from those lips, sobbing when I feel their icy touch. I pull her into the tightest hug I've ever given…in a vain attempt to contain her soul in her body.
"I promise Lita. He won't mourn alone."
She smiled.
"It's time for me to go," she said. "Goodbye…my dark…temptress."
I felt her body go limp in my arms. I sat back and began rocking her in my arms.
"Goodbye, my innocent victim."