She Wrote

This is an entry for the 'Struck by lightening' Compettion. The prompt was 'She wrote in her diary that...'

Word count 412


She wrote in her diary that Ethan was gone, “He cannot be gone. It can’t be true. I cannot live if I never see Ethan again. Who can have done such a terrible, terrible thing? I feel as if I don’t belong in my own life anymore. I go to university lectures, I drink with my friends and I eat and sleep, but it’s as if I’m watching someone else in a TV program do these things.”

Lily read what she'd written. It was a pile of clichés, but then that’s what people would expect from a twenty year old who had lost her soul mate. It would meet with people’s expectations and they'd accept it unquestioningly. Some of it was even true.

Immediately after doing it she’d had a fit of shaking and vomiting, which had caught her by surprise. She’d hadn’t expected to be affected like that. But she’d tucked her soft blond hair, that Ethan had loved so much, behind her ears, rinsed out her mouth and got on with it.

The bit about not fitting into her usual life anymore was true, but not quite the way she’d written it. She’d sit at a table eating dinner with her friends, smiling and joking, and all the while thinking how easy it was to fool them, how foolish and boring they were. She’d think about how easy it would be to kill one of them. She’d always felt superior to them all. Now she felt powerful; it was almost fun to listen to their ignorant ramblings.

The eruption of power as she’d twisted the knife in his stomach, hauling it upwards towards his diaphragm and heart, had been awesome. Ethan had been in her power. Completely.The heat between her legs had grown to be almost intolerable as she watched him gasp and drool. His hand had clutched at her t-shirt, as if asking why. “You bore me Ethan. That’s why. All those talks we had about what it would be like to die, what it would be like to kill someone. You’d never have gone thorough with it would you? So I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone, get rid of you and find out what it’s like to kill.”

“It’s great.” She didn’t think he’d caught the end bit because he was dead by then. He’d died quickly. Next time she’d make sure it was slower, much slower.

“I don’t know how I can carry on,” she wrote, and flipped the diary shut.