Its not regret

Its not regret

A Story by Ama May Cooper
"

Written for a contest

"

 

The blood drips between my fingers, making succulent pools on the floor. I dont regret what i did not at all , it fills me with this sick excitment. My heart races and i smile a sickly sweet smile of pure sucsess. Coating my snow white complexion in this spilt blood. Ive sat here many nights afriad to do this deed, my mind constantly afraid of the reprocussions torn by my love for him and my hate for what he did to me. His head laid gentley across the black velvet of my skirt, much stiller and quieter than ever before, perhaps that has something to do with the knife plunged into the side of his neck, or the vicious sliceings that are carved into him from head to toe. Id made a pretty little pattern , much like those drawings he used to draw me. A rose growing out of a blossoming heart, mine was a little more accurate tho his heart still pumping the blood out on to his unconcious frame. I might perhaps take a picture and frame it on the wall with the title what happens when the blood runs out. Simple but to the point, the obvious answer being death. He's taking his time tho, to loose every sign of life. The open heart surgery i performed on him earlier making it easy to tell. Momentarily i forget that i have indeed killed him or that , that will soon be the case. That before long the sun will rise again, the birds will sing in the trees and i will have to depart. He will be found im sure of it , he has many friends and they will find him lifeless here. And then ill be branded a murderer , a murderer of a sweet man who's only hardship was being to kind. Shame they dont kno the real him, the man my heart did once long for. But that longing grew to hate and it is that hate that led me here to his balcony on this day my hair sweeping around my neck being blow here and there by the wind.

I gently stroke his hair , wiping a few drops of his pure red blood across the nearest strands. "I loved you" i whisper , quietly so if per chance the life left in him can still be stirred he will not hear it "Mabye i still do, deep down tho" i find myself on the verge of tears with that line , almost as if something deep inside me feels some pain or remorse for the loss the world will soon realise. Just to be certain in my mind of this being what i want, possibly a way to convince myself that i have indeed done right to me and noone else. I dip my finger into his blood and spell the words "im not sorry for what ive done, im sorry for who you made me become" out all around his body being very careful not to smudge or smear any of the letters. So they are all perfectly clear and  undeniably what i intend them to be.

I retract my tainted hand from his face. His hair falls loosely about the place and his eyes flicker open. I have hurt him, well of course i have this was hardly going to be a gentle loving job. Not when my weapon of choice posessed a jagged edge capable if used with the correct force of slicing thru any human, or animals bone , musle and tendons.  Funny how he's just looking at me not realy saying much, or anything at all for that matter. And even stranger how i feel nothing but complete peace and calm, almost like this was meant to be. Like my purpose was simply to fall in love with him and then create a situation where my love for him would nolonger be possible.  A strange purpose but if indeed there is a demi-god above us something to amuse his many lonely days up there above it all.

His hand brushes my face and i laugh loud and shrill, the fear in his eyes sending shivers of power thru my soul. He looks into my bright cloudy eyes, shearchign for a light in all the darkness, if only he knew he now shearches in vain for i have become lost by my need for him, and now in his last few moments he is finally mine. And i nolonger want him. My face twists into a smile, and not one i am adressing at him but one adressed to myself and the happy scene i have created for his dimise. "Elizabeth" his voice  high and fading like some young child hangs from his voice box manipulating and bending the cords with its round podgy fingers. Pulling and tugging away at his last gasps of air. "Elizabeth" he croacks , barely auidble, i only hear it because i am listning. Waiting for his aplogy for tearing my heart from deep inside and leaving it on a road , as trucks and trains trampled what was left of my emotions. "Elizabeth Heartnet..."  I look away this repetition somewhat straining on my mind, pulling at any logical thought i have left and causing me to feel some sympathy for my dieing love as he lays in my arms. Not enough to spare his life, or help him far from it, but enough to feel that perhaps the words i previously spelled out where not as forceful in my mind as they read to me now, perhaps i do indeed have some fading regret. But i cannot let my thougths wonder down that path the job infront of me is at hand and the ground is beginning to get cold on my knee's. To late for regrets . To late to turn back now.

I push his head from upon my knee's and he reaches out to me "Elizabeth dont leave me alone". His words sting and i fill once again with the hatrid that led me to this, and before i kno it i am turning around. "YOU LEFT ME"  i scream at the top of my voice and my foot lands squarly on his skull, crushing it over and over again with my shoe. lifting it up and down in a crazy stamping frenzy. And that smile that laugh it explodes from my lungs , this sense of overflowing sucsess. A sickly sweet taste conjured by my senses as the adrenlin pumps thru my body. I am twisted, i am sick in the head, i am filled with unpure thoughts all of which this maggot beneath my feet has placed there. But he is no more. He gasps my name not once , not twice, never again. And in that thought i am soothed and calm and i walk toward the edge of his balcony and look out over a moon lit valley.A beautiful sight even to my twisted eyes.

Flowers bloom along the ground, reflecting and shimmering under the moons pale sickly light. Colours even in this darkness seeping into the air around them and infecting the very essence of the world, a world i never did belong in and was destined to be alone in. Born into this world to destroy and maim, my own mother my first victim. Torn from her dieing loins i screamed a blood curdling yelp, shearching for her warmth and comfert, but that never came for she had not survived what had created me. And as i was plucked from her insides i would never see her in the flesh again. That lonliness never left me i feel never until i fell into his arms, but then he two left me, and now he has become much like my mother. A stone dead corpse. Not quite under ground just yet but soon to be.

The light begins to flood over the horizon and the sun from my view is raising his weary head upon the northern hemisphere, so i must depart. One last kiss , i turn and realise i have made a mess of that beauiful place and cannot place a kiss for theres no where to place it, therefore i must depart without it. And so i do. I place my long legs upon the balcony and breathe in the fresh crisp morning air. Leaning furher forward , letting the air ripple thru me and blow my skirt high above its normal resting place. Modesty forgotten in my last moments , and then  hit the floor. A crumpled mess of bones and pieces , a black and white scar on the road, the red dripping between my fingers.

© 2009 Ama May Cooper


Author's Note

Ama May Cooper
... well you kno

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Featured Review

It is quite eerie, how the writer has managed to express herself in this way! I mean, from the perspective of a demented murderer! Clearly (as the title indicates), the protagonist has taken a lot of pleasure from this brutal murder! Indeed, she even seems to justify it (in her own mind). I wondered if this was a spontaneous write, Cappi? Or, were you inspired by something specific, if you don't mind me asking?

Using some paragraphs of different lengths would help, to a small degree. Even so, it is still very gruesome, and almost makes an artistic scene out of the victim's gruesome demise! Presumably, you thought that this would be suitable for the Group, in view of the strange psychological perspective?

It is both grotesque and sadistic, how the protagonist is filled with so much hatred for her former lover. At one point, she even blames him, for her strong desire to love someone with an all-consuming passion! Indeed, this is also a story, which could be understood as a warning against obsessional love, perhaps?

Another welcome addition to my Group, "Twilight's Disciples"! Who will be next, to add some writing to my Group? Furthermore, who will be next to join our Group, I wonder?

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

I agree with Twilight.

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Congrats on your great winning story

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is sick! Brilliant plot, although there are some SPAG issues that are easily over looked with the sensational story line!
Kudos! So my kind of story!

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

It is quite eerie, how the writer has managed to express herself in this way! I mean, from the perspective of a demented murderer! Clearly (as the title indicates), the protagonist has taken a lot of pleasure from this brutal murder! Indeed, she even seems to justify it (in her own mind). I wondered if this was a spontaneous write, Cappi? Or, were you inspired by something specific, if you don't mind me asking?

Using some paragraphs of different lengths would help, to a small degree. Even so, it is still very gruesome, and almost makes an artistic scene out of the victim's gruesome demise! Presumably, you thought that this would be suitable for the Group, in view of the strange psychological perspective?

It is both grotesque and sadistic, how the protagonist is filled with so much hatred for her former lover. At one point, she even blames him, for her strong desire to love someone with an all-consuming passion! Indeed, this is also a story, which could be understood as a warning against obsessional love, perhaps?

Another welcome addition to my Group, "Twilight's Disciples"! Who will be next, to add some writing to my Group? Furthermore, who will be next to join our Group, I wonder?

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

oh wow i loved that.
its really horrific, but i dont know you can really get a sence of emotion when your reading it through your words. you write with alot of passion, very good (: xxx

Posted 15 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

omg, I loved it =]
so deep and made me nearly cry, you played with the feelings, from knowing its wrong, to feeling a sense of right there, because of her love. I really luv u elizabith, i mean meeka =] hehe

Posted 15 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

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Zak
Doy, that's twisted yo. Quite...impure and horrific, even though she has a reason...Nice write. Ugh, but bloody.

Posted 15 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.


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Added on July 6, 2009
Last Updated on July 7, 2009

Author

Ama May Cooper
Ama May Cooper

London, south west, United Kingdom



About
Name: Ama may cooper Current age(when joined):16 Sex: female Age now: 27 I am merely a being, treading softly on these foreign lands. I am no great individual, no wise king or beautiful temptres.. more..

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A Story by Ama May Cooper


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A Story by Ama May Cooper



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