Broken Vows

I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but when I first saw her, I was blown away. She was my perfect soul mate; we were compatible; the perfect match. I fell in love without the asking. She did too.

 

She was a cracked beauty, roughened by long years of men who came and went by, each leaving a stain of stench, filth, or some bizarre awe, etched in the corners of her being. Under her cold embrace, I was warm and safe; safe from those who wanted to hurt me; from those who desired my head on a platter. In her open and welcoming arms, I was safe from the world and its unfounded prejudice against me. I hated the world, but I loved her dearly. It was only in her arms that I could find solace for my thoughts, peace for my sense of being, and ethereal tranquility for the hope of a better day.

 

The world didn’t understand me; she didn’t either. But unlike the world, she didn’t judge. She didn’t cast treacherous glances at me when I walked by or make assumptions about my mental capabilities or my subconscious fall out. She loved me just the way I had come to her; she didn’t discriminate.

 

So, I made my life sentencing vows with her. I swore never to leave her arms; never to stray from her embrace, just as long as it was always there to see me through the night. With her I was beginning to make a sentence, and it was a never ending one. I loved it. She did too.

 

But…it was not long before I was to find out a painful truth. The sentence began having too many commas; too many quotes and un-quotes; too many digressions. I wanted her as mine alone, no one else, but she was polygamous, her embrace wasn’t meant for only me.

 

She had other men. They were also in love with her just as I was. And worse of all, she loved them back all the same. She gave them the same lukewarm embrace as she gave me each night. She didn’t judge me, but she wasn’t faithful either. I judged her for her wanton infidelity; and slowly, I began to develop a churning feeling of hatred for my supposed true love. I hated the men that shared her with me; I hated the fact that they also loved her as deep as I did; but more than that, I hated myself.  

 

I wanted to leave her; I needed to leave her. I hated her presence, and with each day that passed between us, I could sense that she felt the same way too. Her embrace had suddenly become just…cold; no more warmth. Her touch became irritable; I puked at her fragrance and the stench of her past lovers began to haunt me. Each night we lay together, in the darkened solace of her embrace, engulfed by the strain of a broken bond. And each of those nights, I began to have terrible nightmares about her and as the days passed, the nightmares worsened.   

 

I had nightmares of her embrace tightening around me and slowly choking the little life I had out of me. And then I would see bats supping and feasting on my flesh; drinking the eerie nectar of my blood, and as I screamed out in pain and tears, I would hear the echoes of my tears transform into her haunting mirth. In my nightmares, she always seemed to feed off my pains; the more I was in pains and wanted so much to leave her presence, the more she mocked my ambition and delirium.

 

Soon days passed on to weeks, and from weeks to months, and in no time, I had to learn to live in a feigned peace with her. I watched her continue to flirt and house other men. She always seemed too interested in any and every man that came on to her; her arms were always open to them; they cried their tears on her cracked corners and laughed their mockery there also. I was fed up of pretending to live the life of comfort with her infidelity and so I decided in the solace of my thoughts to make a move, and severe my bonds with her; it was time to put a full stop to our sentence.

 

The crime I committed was a deliberate attempt to fall into her arms, to get away from the world and there aspersions, and just be alone with her, taking in the moments. And it was all rosy for a while, till she broke my heart, and started to take in other men. And since I wasn’t someone with flair of sharing my priced possession with others, I opted for the other option. I would leave her and her other men.

 

I supposed she didn’t know of my plan. I was wrong.

 

That very night, as I lay in her embrace, feigning tenderness in her cold warmth; albeit savoring the thoughts of my soon to be salvation, something pricked and pierced hard into my side --twice. I was forced to turn on instinct to the pain and I saw him. He was one of her new love, and in his hand was a bloodied pen knife. As I felt for my side and beheld the blood that stained my palm, I realized, she had known of my plan all along.

 

How? I couldn’t say. As I fell to the cold floor of her embrace, I realized, it was something I would never find out. I lay silent in her cold arms. I drifted, hearing the echoes of her victorious guffaw. I had made a life sentencing vow to her and she had just made sure I had kept my word.

 

The walls of the prison began to close-in on me. I was a murderer; a psychopath, but I had fallen in love with the empty but accepting walls of the prison cell. I had promised her that I wouldn’t leave, but had gone behind her back and had tried to renege on that promise. And as I drifted slowly and painfully to the afterlife, cuddled in her arms, in a pool of my own blood, I realized that she had, in her own ignorance, done something for me…a parting gift, as it were.

 

She had put a full stop to our sentence.

 

Just then, I breathed my last.

Author's Note

A little piece trying to delve into the romanticized thoughts of a Psychopath. Any thoughts?

Reviews

[R. Linskey]

At first, I thought the man was the psychopath, then I started to theorise that maybe she's the crazy one (since she could love so many men without seeming to feel guilt about her infidelity) But then you mentioned that he plans to end things with her. And therefore I was made to think that he's the real psycho here, then she has him killed instead, which I didn't expect due to your writing structure. So if you were going for that, then you succeeded. The story was like a karma on it's own and I enjoyed it without taking any pauses from reading :D

[Mifa]

Thanks for the review, I am glad you went fluidly with the piece. Thanks for reading.

[Jayeobarrholuphemmy]

Waoh! I had to make sure I was alone again. Couldn't have been better. The romanticized tale of betrayal.

[Akshita]

It is such a captivating tale! So dark and interesting. : )

[Mifa]

Once again, thanks Ash, most especially for taking time out to read my works. I really appreciate this.