I looked up; just wanting to see who it was who finally ended this nightmare. He couldn’t have recognized me; in fact, I was sure he hadn’t. I was almost glad he didn’t. And I wouldn’t make him. I wanted to die, and I still cared about him that much to not let the two huge guys, at least I think they were both guys, know that he was once my…well, mine. But I could not help but meet his eyes one last time. A brief moment of confusion passed on his half-lit granite face. He lowered the gun and whispered a name I hadn’t heard in a long, long time, even if it was my own, the once-velvet voice that said it made it more. “Miki?” My blurry eyes narrowed. I’m either hopped up to the point of absolute insanity, or he has a hell of a lot of explaining to do. He frowned. His goons looked at him, silently questioning if they should be the ones to kill me since he hadn’t yet. Or so they thought at least. My heart had stopped beating a long time ago because of him. And from his expression, or lack thereof, he knew that. He blinked twice and, without a word, raised the sleek, shiny gun once more, held it sideways, and pointed it directly at me. His face, the same face that haunted me, a face I had loved, was cold. I took an unsteady breath when all the dark little details fell into place. I felt my eyes fill with inevitable tears and shut them so I wouldn’t have to see it coming. He’s already killed me once; it can’t possibly hurt as much the second time around. Two sharp cracking pops went off. I wonder if I’m dead. I’m cold. I feel sick. I feel dead. But those didn’t tell me much. I was too afraid to find out if my recent life was just like death and vice versa. I didn’t move. I didn’t feel myself breathing or my weak heartbeat. If death consists of only blackness, then Cookie’s in for a shock. Like a cry from reality, a car alarm went off somewhere. - Take the Breath Out of Me
Posted on: Wed, 17 Jul 2013 16:25:21 +0000
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