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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Thriller/Suspense · #2060451
A man deals with the anger and sorrow that comes with a breakup.
I recently went through my first breakup so, I felt like writing this. Sorry if it's a little rough.

         "Look at me!" These words came out of my mouth but, they were not my own.
         "Look at me!" The voice demanded it spoke as if each syllable was clawing it's way out of my throat, rushing to attack who I was speaking to. Each consonant was pronounced perhaps, overly so as if it was imperative each word be completely understood like they had a greater meaning.
         "Look at me!" The voice growled once more, as I slammed my fist on the table beside me it shook. The assortment of plates, silverware, and, cups that were just so peacefully sitting there shook as well. A cup of water toppled off the table and, spilled on the opposite side of us. The creature I was speaking to was laying on the ground shivering and whimpering, I stood over her leaning so I was staring at the back of her skull. She wrapped her arms around her body in an attempt to protect herself.
         "I can't do this." She whispered to herself.
         "I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this." She began rocking herself back and forth on the ground
I brought my foot down on the side of her leg she yelled the muttering stopped and she reached her hand out to feel her leg. I walked over to her side and pulled her closer to me away from the table, as I was doing this I also rolled her on her back. I inspected her, I liked the way her mother put it the best, she was "pleasantly plump" her hair was black with a tint of red in it. I stared into her eyes tears were slowly streaming down her face. I thought back to the first time I had spent the night with her, she had invited me over. I had no idea what I was doing, we sat on the couch watching a movie. Before I knew it we were holding hands she inched closer and, put my arm around her. A little later she was resting her head on my lap, her eyes were staring up at me. I stared into her eyes for a couple seconds and, began to lean forward my lips connecting with hers.
         I shook my head. "No!"
         I was back in the present, I had clung desperately to that memory. Even though, every time I thought of it the familiar taste of bitterness entered my mouth.
         "You cold-hearted, lying, stupid, cunt!" The voice yelled.
         She blinked as tears began to flow faster down her cheeks, I began to cry as well, deep down I enjoyed her pain this only made me cry more. I wanted to reach down and help her up, hold her like I used to, tell her I was sorry.
         The voice was pleading now. "I loved you, you broke my heart and, I still loved you, I forgave you!"
"I thought we could go back to how we were, and the pain would just go away." I sobbed. "You said you still loved me and, now you tell me you're fucking some other guy!"
         The sorrow had slowly disappeared from my voice and, the words again were spoken by something else inside of me. I grabbed a fork off the table and, swung it down at her face she brought her hand up to protect herself it carved its way into her palm I wiggled it, and jerked it side to side. I wanted her to suffer she was shrieking, she swiped her hand to the side and the knife flew out. I brought the ball of my foot crashing down on her knee, for as long as I'd known her she had complained about it bothering her. She was writhing around in pain I grabbed a knife from the table. I held her with one hand, as I pointed the knife at her throat with the other.
         "Do you even know what love is, what it means?" The voice snapped.
         She stared blankly at me. This only aggravated the voice.
         "Why tell me why!" The voice yelled. "Why are you fucking this other guy?"
         She kept staring. "I don't have any answers." She whispered.
         I debated on slitting her throat, my thoughts and actions were not my own, I felt like I was floating watching this scene from the ceiling. I decided against it.
         "Too quick." I said out loud. "Too quick." I said again agreeing with myself.
         It felt like a waste not using the knife, I jammed it into her arm. She screamed, I twisted the knife, she screamed louder.
         "The more you scream, the more it will hurt." The voice was devoid of emotion, it spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.          She stopped screaming, I twisted once more, she only flinched and clenched her teeth.
         "Good girl." The voice said, almost proudly as if it had trained a dog a new trick.
         I stared into her eyes once more. How much I had cared for her, I would have done anything for her. I looked back at the time we had spent together, I had felt alive a feeling I had not experienced for a long time before that. Now standing over her I felt alive once again but, it was different I had power and anger pumping through my veins. Before it had been a calm feeling of being content like nothing else mattered, I had her. Suddenly the body that I had once called my own lunged down on her, his hands wrapped around her neck she was clawing at my hands as I tightened my grip she was gasping for air. At some point she gave up, her hands fell to her sides, I watched her eyes close.
         "What am I doing?" I asked out loud and let go.
         I put my ear close to her mouth her breathing was quiet but, there. A strange feeling washed over me, disappointment. But, then I was grateful, strangling was too good for her. I stood up and, walked to the garage, the rooms started to come into my vision, I had been so focused on her, everything else had been invisible. Memories began to come flowing back, I covered my eyes. I felt my way to the garage where I found it, the gas can. I sprinted back in to avoid the rooms and, found her on the floor where I left her. Her breathing was getting stronger, I sat down and, dragged her so her head was resting on my lap. I began to pour the gas onto her face it spilled all over the floor around us when it was empty my pants were soaked. Some had gotten into her mouth and, she began to cough it up, her eyes fluttered open. I stared into them for the last time. I held a lit match in front of me.
         "I, hate, you, Brittney." I said, each word increasing in intensity but, not volume.
         I dropped the match, it fell on her cheek. Her face was instantly engulfed in flames, everything except her eyes, which stared back at me. She opened her mouth to scream, but the flames scurried into her mouth incinerating any sound that was trying to come out. I felt the sting of fire all over my legs it was crawling its way up my body, its hands slowly sliding up my stomach now. She was staring up at me, her beautiful eyes amidst the carnage of fire. I leaned over and, kissed her, my tongue was met with fire I didn't want to but, I pulled away from the pain. Her eyes closed. I held her tight as the flames consumed us both.
         "I love you Brittney." I whispered.
© Copyright 2015 NathanQ7 (nathanhalter3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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