A/N- Couldn't help myself…twists and turns!
Sorry for any grammar errors!
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Please don't let me die like this! A hand grips my airway tightly and won't let go no matter how much I kick, push, and claw. The man with the Irish accent only obstructs my airway even more. He has me on my tippy-toes up against the wall. He laughs evilly. Using his free hand, he snakes it between my knees. All my strength is put into keeping them closed but even that is useless because he pries them open. I hear the all too familiar sound of a zipper unzipping and my already struggled breathing accelerates.
"Please…no.", I wheeze out.
"What ya' say, lassy?" he asks rhetorically, he laughs as do the rest who look at me with lusty eyes. I feel his dick on the inside of my thigh and begin to scream, or attempt. He backhands me, "BE QUIET!"
Still I struggle trying to kick. I figure appears in the shadows. HELP? I scream and yell hoping that this will be my rescuer. The shadow creeps closer and closer until he's right in my view. Dear God. Noah.
Noah pushes the Irishman out of the way, "I told you dumbfucks to shake her up a bit not manhandle her!", he booms.
I shrink into the wall, I'm shaking and trembling scared to death. I'm alone; I no longer have bravery like when I'm accompanied. Noah caresses my cheek with a broad smirk on his unshaven face. I recoil from his touch, "Bebe…Its been a minute. I missed you." He waits for my response but all I do is whimper in fear, "Why you scared? I love you, babe." He's cynical…delusional! Is this a set up?
"Le-le-let me go…" I whisper
He pouts, "If I let you…you'll just run away…" he runs a chipped nail around my face and taps my nose, "I can't have that." I shiver, "You cold?" I don't respond, "Maybe if you weren't dressed like sucha fucking puta you WOULDN'T BE COLD!" he yells in my face, pulling my hair roughly. I shriek. "CALLATE!" he demands looking at me straight in the eyes. I notice the bags under his eyes, 5 o'clock shadow along his jaw, his rancid breath fuming on my face, and the deranged look in his eye. If I was scared just a minute ago…now I'm completely terrified!
"Noah, Noah please…please, calm down.", I tell him as softly as I can.
This only angers him more and he yanks my hair, "DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" he slaps me across the cheek and I'm now sure that I'll have a dark bruise soon. My ex then orders his little gang to disperse, "Para eso me dejaste, verdad? To be a whore? I ALWAYS KNEW YOU CHEATED ON ME!" another slap, "Pinche perra!"
Tears of fear run down my face, "Noah…please!", he grabs my face and squeezes my cheek. I go out on a limb and harden up, "CALL ME…WHATEVER…BUT I NEVER CHEATED ON YOU! BASTARD!"
My words anger him even more and he knees me in the stomach. I fall to my knees clutching my stomach but he pulls me back up by the hair, "CALMADA…Watch that mouth or things will get nasty." He warns. I feel something cold slide up my leg, I dare to look down and gasp. The crazy bastard has a knife on him!
"Baby, baby…calm down! Don't do something crazy, please!", I shriek as I feel the tip dancing along my neck, "I-I…I lo-loveyou!", the only thing that I believe will stop him.
He stares at me confusedly, "Wha' you say?"
"Baby, te quiero…I'm sorry for doin' you bogus…I-I don' know what I was thinking.", I force I regretful smile on my face, "I'm sorry…I love you…we-we can work it out…yeah?"
His grip on my hair loosens up. His eyes shine with forming tears, he laughs like a madman…the madman he is, "I-I knew it…you were just being a dumb bitch…you could never leave me." He chuckles and he taps his knife on my cheek.
My breath hitches and I smile, "Yeah…now, put that knife down, babe." I put a shaky hand on the hand that holds the weapon and slowly try to coax it away, "C'mon, so I can give you a k-kiss…I missed you so much." I laugh breathily.
"Deveras me extranaste?", he asks with a tone of disbelief. His weapon still to my cheek, making me ever more nervous and uncertain.
"Would I ever lie to you?"
His eyes show sudden rage, "Yes!" he presses the knife against my cheek and I can feel a trickle of blood sliding down my face, "You told me that you didn't love me and then you went with the bitch ass Punk!"
"Baby…Love, please…You're hurting me!", I cry out.
His eyes look frantically into mine and he begins to cry, "I-I'm sorry, amor!" He hugs me and I feel the blade point pierce through my shoulder.
I tremble violently, and squeal. Noah releases me and notices what he just did with wide eyes. I touch my shoulder with my other hand and feel hot liquid stain it. Bringing it in front of me, I make to scream but nothing comes out, "Noah…what...have you…done?" I ask incredulously.
"Baby…BABY!" He tries to touch me and I slide away from him. He picks up the knife, "I'm sorry…I-I didn't mean to…I-I love you!"
I'm near the front of the cabaret clutching my shoulder hoping that I won't bleed out, "GET AWAY FROM ME!" I screech, "GET AWAY!"
Cabaret's doors open and reveal a giggling Maria and smiling Phil. They take a look at me and Maria lets out a blood-curdling shrill. Phil comes over to me with a frantic look in his eyes. He stumbles over words and nothing coherent comes out his mouth.
"PHIL WATCH OUT!" I yelp as I see an enraged Noah charge at him from behind with his bloodied weapon in hand.
White noise fills my ears. I can't hear a thing but sure as hell can see. Off to the side, Maria appears to be screaming her lungs out. Yelling, yelling, screaming, screaming…but I can't hear. Her arms flail around; she looks a deranged, retarded chicken.
In slow-motion, Phil…the man who ever since his grand return had done nothing but belittle, ridicule, and insult me falls to the ground ever so slowly. He looks…graceful almost. His eyes show pure fear and pain; still they delve into mine. He mouths something but I can't hear. He falls to the ground, finally and that's when I notice…it. The reason for his pained expression…Noah's knife stuck like a pin to his left shoulder. My world stops…my heart seems to deadline…I no longer feel my pain but his. I drop to my knees not caring how badly they are scraped and crawl to him. I forget all the resentment…everything. I feel my vocal chords vibrating as I scream. Blood seeps through his dress-shirt. I'm rendered helpless.
Feet appear in my line of view and I look up to see a insane, smiling Noah. He says something, laughs and walks away quickly…disappearing into the darkness. I'm glued to the place where I am, clutching Phil's body, crying…yes, crying hysterically. His warm, quickly becoming cold, blood smears all over me. A force pushes me away from him. I look and it's a crazed Maria.
My ears open up and I hear a variety of derogatory names and urges to keep away from Phil. Now isn't the fucking time! I lunge at Maria and shake her, "HELP ME PICK HIM UP! WE NEED TO GET HIM OUTSIDE OR HE'LL DIE ON US!"
All Punk's girlfriend does is breakdown. It's up to me to get him inside, the doors are open. I crawl to his uninjured side and try to pick him up. He's deadweight, "C'mon…work with me!" I manage to get him up and he seems to be conscious, "Sweetheart…please, walk with me…C'mon Phil." I begin to cry again, "C'mon baby!"
By the time I arrive inside, I wail at the top of my lungs, "AMBULANCE! HURT! MAN!"
The people who are still inside panic and the Brit who played the drums comes over and helps me keep my…er…Phil up. "The hell happened?" he asks
I can barely speak…nothing coherent. I hear somebody calling 911.
No more than 10mins late, paramedics arrive. They try to pry Punk away from me and I refuse. "He needs to be with me!"
"Ma'm let go…"
"No! I-I I'm his girlfriend I gotta be with him!" I tell the P.M frantically
"Okay…if you let us help him…you can ride in the ambulance with him.", He says reassuring me that everything'll be fine.
"Promise?", I ask like a child. The P.M nods. Unwillingly I let go of the man and the go to work. One takes me outside to check out my wound. I see Maria being escorted in by Danny. Danny catches my eye and smiles sadly.
On our speedy race to the hospital, I sit in the back holding Phil's hand…just like the P.M promised. Though my first love is unconscious I rub his hand and whisper soothing words to him. I gaze at him and take in all his handsomeness. Even soaked in blood his attractive features aren't marred. He's on his back with wads cottonballs covering up his wound and a gauze bandage wrapped around his torso. His expression seems pained and for this I cry. Guilt pours into me like poison, slowly killing me. Had I warned him sooner…had I stayed against the wall…had I done so many things differently, perhaps he wouldn't be in this ambulance, on this stretcher, in the company of his cheating ex-girlfriend.
Caressing his cheek I murmur a list of sorrys and regrets. A hand slides on top of mine and I jump from fright, his eyes open and lazy olive-greens stare back at me. A ghost of a smile on his face, "Call me Knight in Shining Armor…you owe me a Pepsi." He chuckles and grips my hand tighter.
I laugh along…and then that laugh turns into sobs, "I'm so fucking sorry."
He caresses my beat-up cheek, "Women…they always gotta cry for something."