Love to Death

A girl decides she can't be with her crush anymore and kills him to remove any lament over losing him. It's a scrap I wrote a while ago that I decided I liked.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she told him. “Not here with me.” Her hand reached down to caress his cheek. The young man looked up at her with large, wet eyes. 

“Quit this,” he begged. “It’s not funny anymore.”

“Funny?” she laughed back. Her hand snapped back, and she paced back and forth through the room. He watched her nervously as her heels clicked against the ground. She always did like to look nice for him. “I depend on you,” she began, her voice seeming to calm down a little. “I love you. More than I should. It’s forbidden, though, you know? We’re not allowed to. It just can’t happen. But what do I do? I can’t just leave. Life doesn’t work like that. No, I would wonder what would happen if I ran into you again. Or worse yet, you might find another girl.” She smiled at him and crouched beside the chair he was tied to. “Love,” she whispered. His eyes flickered over to hers.

“Hm?” he grunted back.

“I can’t live knowing you’d be out there for someone else.” She slid her hand up to his cheek, shifted to her knees, and leaned up to him. It was the first time she had ever kissed him, and it was a sweet moment while it lasted. Her eyes closed a little, and she truly enjoyed it. He tasted as wonderful as he smelled.

The boy went along and leaned into her, hoping that it meant that the “argument” was over. That he was safe.

He realized just how wrong he was when she pulled out a knife. “I can promise to you that I’ll never find another man I’ll ever love,” she said, her voice trembling a little. “But there’s no way that you can tell me that after we’re apart. I can’t live knowing that.” She drew the blade up to his chest. “So, I’ll make sure that I have your heart with me forever.”

He looked up at her and saw her expression. It was true, she loved him. It was plain to see from the look in her eyes. No, it wasn’t malicious. There was no violent intent. He knew for a fact that she would weep and mourn his death for months to come before getting over what she had done. For now, though, she didn’t know it. Only the boy did, and he was in no position to talk.

The knife plunged into his chest and drove deep between his lungs. He could feel his throat filling with blood for the last few moments that he was alive. It began bubbling from between his lips, which she kissed for the last time for a romantic feel. She twisted the blade within his chest, and excruciating pain filled him. He tried to cry out. He wanted to scream. If he could have screamed like a girl and cried like an infant, he would have. Instead, he gasp and choked on blood. His body shook as he fought for air. He knew it wouldn’t come, though. There was that feeling that he would never taste air again, just as he would never feel her again, nor taste her lips as he had for the first time that evening. No, he wouldn’t be with her anymore, but she was happy.

And indeed, she thought that she was happy. She dug her knife through his chest until she could find his heart. It continued to pump and splatter blood for a while. Blood sprayed across her clothing and face as warm lines and drops of liquid. Death was palpable in the air. She clung to the heart that slowed to a stop. It poured blood as she severed the last of the veins that attached to it so that it was hers and hers alone.

Her hand reached a jar beside the chair that she had prepared just for the occasion. She carefully set the heart within the jar, labeled it, “Love,” with a bright red sharpie, then set it on a shelf.

Even after she had cleaned up her room and the body, she looked at the shelf every day and night. The weight of murder hadn’t hit her yet. Some say that when it did, she went insane.

Reviews

[Ashley]

I absolutely love your imagery. "I want more of this," that was my first thought as I finished reading. I think this would be perfect for a prologue of some sort; it would kill the reader with curiosity for what the story contains. And the ending, with the jar labeled "Love," gave me the idea that it could be only one among many jars labeled with emotions. "Sadness" for someone who had caused her misery, "Anger" for one who had made her feel mad, etc. Like the ultimate murderer.
Great job!

[WriterMe]

Woah. What a read. Especially it being the first thing I read in the morning. Usually I don't like gore but this was excellent! The whole dark, morbid theme of it really allured me. The ending was as good and as twisted. Things love make you do. *sighs*
Haha great work =]