I Loved Her

I loved her, she was the perfect one that no alcohol nor drug could dull out of my mind. We had the best time in the world when we would go out or even stay in just holding each other. Her cold body fit my warm arms; we were just the best pair. Oh how I did love her so much.

Sometimes things got hard and we would yell and scream to each other at the top of our lungs. I would never lay a hand on her because it wouldn't be me doing it. That wasn't the person I am, but we had been fighting each night. Over and over again always at 6:00pm to 6:35pm. It was like something would cause me to just fight because it would never be me actually fighting her, it would be that little voice inside my head just screaming at me forcing me to say it.

Half the time I wouldn't remember the fight. It was like it would dig his way into my mind and just take over and completely throw me into a darkness until she stormed out of the room. Like it was jealous that I was with her so it was trying to get rid of her, but she would rebel because somehow she knew it wasn't me. She had knew me before it was like this, when we were in true love. Now I was just painful to stay in the same room together, like a dark cloud was always just hanging over us just not letting us escape. It was so depressing how we wouldn't even talk. I guess our love just ran out and it was gone forever.

She told me she needed time to think and I knew what that meant, it meant she wanted to split up and it just threw me into a rage. That was the first time I ever lost it. I drove to the bar to get a drink. I did get a drink or two, I don't remember. Just by the end of the night I don't remember how I got home.

So when I got up I saw that the house was destroyed; looked like it was raided or robbed. I saw all her stuff was just obliterated. What did I do last night? I felt like shit. I had to tell her. I went to her house and I used the spare key located at the top of the light that hung out of her house. I unlocked it with haste because I didn't want to go in. I was nervous, so damned nervous. I walk in to tell her and when I walked in I saw her with him.

He was that kinda guy who had great gold hair and a muscular great build oh how I hated him. I left as soon as I could and went to the bar that night again. That was probably the most I've ever drank before.

When I awoke with a mind shredding hangover I saw the room looked the same, but there were differences. The walls were stained with some kinda red goo. I didn't know what it was. I paid no attention to it, I was way too fucked up to even check. It was more of a blur. I couldn't check either way.

When I awoke I still had a headache but it wasn't even half as bad. I checked the red on my wall; it smelled like death in here. It was blood on the wall everywhere. In fact well there was absolutely no injury to me at all so I got scared and I followed the blood. When I turned around the corner there it was, or him, at least I could tell it was a him because I saw the bloodstained goldish hair. He was everywhere - limbs were just spread out everywhere. Oh my god did I do this to him?

I cleaned up all the blood and dug a deep, deep hole in the ground and threw all that was left of him in the hole. It felt weird. I loved just seeing him in that hole. It was satisfying - the way he looked all dead and such. It made me feel so badly good it was like just getting something new from someone very important.

I kinda wanted to know how I killed him. It would have been more satisfying to know that the bastard suffered. It's the best feeling in this world when you know the person you hate is gone forever, but I did not get that feeling after it happened. I was happy, but not complete. What was I missing, what the fuck was wrong? I killed him - the one I saw that night. Then an idea popped into my rage filled brain. It was her...

So later on that week I planned the way it was going to happen. It went by so smoothly in my head like a beautiful dream, but when it came around the day I planned it, it didn't go so well. I saw her and she looked me in the eye, but my face was blank. How could she still tell I had feelings for her? She looked so down so I asked her what she was down about. She replied with the most soft voice that you would hear out of an angel that she hadn't gotten any replies from her boyfriend in over a week. And then I snapped back into a rage because I knew she wanted that blonde prick over me.

I got her by the neck and held her against the wall. I got that curved blade that had been hidden in the garage for years, I put it to her chest and slowly just dragged it down to her stomach. She screamed in agony. I fucking loved it.

When the job was done I just sat there and caressed her body in my arms as if she were mine again. For the nest 2 hours I talked to her as if she were listening. I actually liked this better than actually talking to a live person - they couldn't argue.

Well it was time to leave. I went to go and put the body in the closet. For some reason I thought of the saying "skeletons in the closet" and it made me laugh so hard that I couldn't breathe so I put her away, but I found a present. It was for me from her. It was a brand new 12 gauge shotgun. She had known how much I loved guns. I picked it up and loaded it with a buck shot. I knew I would get caught for it so what was the use of running? My purpose in life was complete. I got that feeling that I was looking for, put the gun to my head, and pulled the trigger.

Gone forever, complete and happy.

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