Far Away
Something happened earlier. She scared me. I never thought someone like her could scare me. I thought maybe her mind had completely shattered. There's an interesting story behind it, and I suppose I'll explain. If I don't, no one will understand why she scared me. That would defeat the purpose of writing, now wouldn't it?
I was all set to kill her. I was going to end her life tonight. I had everything planned out, everything. Nothing was going to save the bitch, nothing. So I swept her in a mad waltz, dancing her around the room, willing myself to wait, as she often advised. I almost laughed at how trustingly she clung to me, her face buried in my chest. I would have thought she had been near me enough to know I could not be trusted so readily.
Not that I was complaining, it just made my work easier. I expected her to put up a fight, but not once did I expect her to beg. She never begged for anything, I had to admit that much. She seemed calm, as if she was far away in her own world, which she undoubtedly was.
Somehow, she sensed what I was planning to do. That had not been part of my plan. I never thought she would catch on until it was too late. She only said one word, one simple word that I never thought I would hear her say at a time like this. "Wait" was all she said, as she often did. Her fight had begun, and I was disappointed. I had expected more of her. I whispered the last words I expected to say to her: "I'll slit your pretty little throat from ear to ear that way you'll be smiling for me for all eternity."
Still, she clung to me, telling me to wait. I rolled my eyes at her ignorance. All I could think to say was: "If not now, when? After a marriage, or on our wedding night?" It was the wrong thing to say. Her eyes brightened, and she whispered, "Would you truly marry me?" I was surprised at the depth of her affection. Not even I had guessed she cared this much. I could think of only one reason to rid her of this: "If I needed to kill, would you be my victim?"
Damn..Wrong thing to say..She whispered her reply: "I've been your victim all my life, love." I cringed. That damned woman...I had one last chance. Kill her while she thought I cared. Using my last chance, I kissed her roughly. She reacted the way I expected, the way I'd hoped. She relaxed completely in my arms, a small moan, followed by that same sigh of happiness I had heard so often, escaping her lips. I felt her hands move down to my waist, and I cringed inwardly. I didn't realize what she had done until it was too late.
The blade of my knife was pressed against my own throat. I nearly laughed at the irony. "Well done, my pet." were the first words I could offer. What the poor woman didn't know was that I always carried a spare. I flicked it open, holding the blade to her throat. Shock crept into her eyes, and I almost felt sorry for her, almost. "How long did you know I loved you and used me?" she said softly. I had to admire her strength. I nearly growled my reply, my voice low and rough: "Too long.".
She began to cry, something I had never seen her do when faced with danger. I assumed it was because of her thoughts plaguing her, and soon found I was right. She lashed out at me, screaming in her pain: "I wish I had never met you!" The blade clattered to the floor as it slipped from her hand. Here was my chance...Somehow, I could not bring myself to do it. I silently cursed myself, wondering why I was unable to kill the one woman that vexed me beyond belief. What is wrong with me?