She sat on the rooftop breathing in the last of a very long and eventful evening, playing with the sharp knife painted crimson with blood. Her insides were screaming but no sound came out of her mouth. She was drowning in self-loathing. But, even in this turmoil, there was a sense of peace and contentment.

To her, she was nothing but a failure who had let her demons back into her life, yet again. After holding it together for two whole months, one week and four days. This time was supposed to be different because in her mind she had finally gotten it under control. She had done everything that was asked of her. She had found another outlet, a healthier one at that. She was finally on the path to recovery, all thanks to him.

People always viewed her as an outcast who wasn’t capable of forming bonds. They tried to keep away from her because of her dark aura. Nobody wanted to be close to her because she made everyone uncomfortable. And that served her purpose, they kept away from her which was safe. But, not him.

He was different from others, he walked her through her vulnerabilities and insecurities to embrace her with all her sweet imperfections. He had become her shield who protected her from the game of blades which had consumed her for most of her life. Their lives collided in a dark alley two months ago when he had caught her with a knife dripping red. She had looked beautiful even at her worst and he wasn’t afraid of her. That day forth, he helped her, helped her break free from her indiscretions, even though it was for a short while.

It had all changed today. She had fallen off her wagon yet again. And the victim to her transgression was the one that she loved. And herself.

He had come home to find her holding her old knife and lost it. She was his love, he couldn’t watch her go down that road again. But, she just couldn’t take his yelling and coming at her like that. She just couldn’t. She was overcome with inexplicable rage and clutching the knife in her hand, she let that fury consume her. His screams were music to her ears. She kept stabbing him again and again even after his eyes rolled back. And just like that, the fury left her body as she slumped to the ground next to his body. Her ninth body.

Most definitely not her last.


Comment with Facebook

Want to say something? Leave a Comment