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pennie_dreadful) wrote2013-06-12 10:21 am
pennie_dreadful) wrote2013-06-12 10:21 am
Entry tags:
random short story
Uh, warnings for general darkness and uh, cussing? Don't ask.
He woke, slowly, to the glare of fluorescent lights reflecting on bare white walls. She stood in front of him, wearing a plain white button down blouse and the dark wash jeans she'd bought last weekend. He remembered her modeling them for him, and they'd had a spontaneous date night, just because.
His thoughts were blurry, and she slipped out of focus a few times before he could finally concentrate enough to mumble out a few questions, realizing that his hands were handcuffed to the chair he was sitting on.
She started crying. She looked down at the floor, then up at the ceiling, making no effort to wipe away her tears.
"I," she started, then covered her mouth against a fresh wave of grief. "I just, I couldn't--Damn it!" she yelled. "You had to be a fucking knight in shining armor, didn't you? You couldn't just leave well enough alone. You couldn't believe me and trust me. And now look what happened."
She pulled a gun from behind her back, slipped a magazine into place with a click, and aimed it directly at his head. Alarm jarred him into full alertness, his eyes darting back and forth between the gun and the woman he'd spent the last nine months loving and the last three months worrying over.
"I didn't need rescuing, and now there's no one who can rescue you. And they don't care that you didn't hear anything, that you barely saw anything and have no idea what any of it even means. You were there and you weren't supposed to be."
"Baby, please, what's going on?" How was he supposed to not worry? Mysterious phone calls in the middle of the night, sudden "business trips" that she refused to turn down. Bruises and cuts she explained away by saying she'd gotten them at the dojo or the gym. Ever since they'd started living together there had been so many seemingly innocent things that, taken by themselves, could be explained away, but taken altogether? He'd thought it could be any number of things. Drugs, maybe. Cybercrime. All he wanted was for her to know that whatever she was involved in, it didn't change how he felt, and he wanted to help her get out of it and start over. He wanted to get married, maybe even have a baby.
She lowered the gun, and for a brief second relief joined the confusion and fear relentlessly beating at the inside of his head. "Something important. Something I don't have time to explain to you. Something I wanted to tell you about. But I couldn't." She shook her head, fresh tears escaping.
"And this isn't your fault. None of it. It's mine. I knew better. I knew I shouldn't let myself be with you, but you were just so perfect. I thought, I have to try, right? I don't want be that woman who didn't take the chance when it came along because I had such goddamn perfect reasons. I thought I could do it. Have one life with you, and another here." She stopped, sobbing too much to get words out. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out. "I'm so, so sorry I was so damn selfish." She exerted more control over herself, brought the gun back up.
"Please don't do this, oh god, please," he begged, still not really able to reconcile that the woman he loved and wanted to marry had a gun pointed at him, thinking of all the things he still had to do, his family. Would they ever know what happened to him?
"I want you to know this is for the greater good. Okay? This isn't some drug ring or identity theft or something. We're trying to make the world a better place." Her face crumbled again. "God forgive me," she cried. Then her face hardened.
He woke, slowly, to the glare of fluorescent lights reflecting on bare white walls. She stood in front of him, wearing a plain white button down blouse and the dark wash jeans she'd bought last weekend. He remembered her modeling them for him, and they'd had a spontaneous date night, just because.
His thoughts were blurry, and she slipped out of focus a few times before he could finally concentrate enough to mumble out a few questions, realizing that his hands were handcuffed to the chair he was sitting on.
She started crying. She looked down at the floor, then up at the ceiling, making no effort to wipe away her tears.
"I," she started, then covered her mouth against a fresh wave of grief. "I just, I couldn't--Damn it!" she yelled. "You had to be a fucking knight in shining armor, didn't you? You couldn't just leave well enough alone. You couldn't believe me and trust me. And now look what happened."
She pulled a gun from behind her back, slipped a magazine into place with a click, and aimed it directly at his head. Alarm jarred him into full alertness, his eyes darting back and forth between the gun and the woman he'd spent the last nine months loving and the last three months worrying over.
"I didn't need rescuing, and now there's no one who can rescue you. And they don't care that you didn't hear anything, that you barely saw anything and have no idea what any of it even means. You were there and you weren't supposed to be."
"Baby, please, what's going on?" How was he supposed to not worry? Mysterious phone calls in the middle of the night, sudden "business trips" that she refused to turn down. Bruises and cuts she explained away by saying she'd gotten them at the dojo or the gym. Ever since they'd started living together there had been so many seemingly innocent things that, taken by themselves, could be explained away, but taken altogether? He'd thought it could be any number of things. Drugs, maybe. Cybercrime. All he wanted was for her to know that whatever she was involved in, it didn't change how he felt, and he wanted to help her get out of it and start over. He wanted to get married, maybe even have a baby.
She lowered the gun, and for a brief second relief joined the confusion and fear relentlessly beating at the inside of his head. "Something important. Something I don't have time to explain to you. Something I wanted to tell you about. But I couldn't." She shook her head, fresh tears escaping.
"And this isn't your fault. None of it. It's mine. I knew better. I knew I shouldn't let myself be with you, but you were just so perfect. I thought, I have to try, right? I don't want be that woman who didn't take the chance when it came along because I had such goddamn perfect reasons. I thought I could do it. Have one life with you, and another here." She stopped, sobbing too much to get words out. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out. "I'm so, so sorry I was so damn selfish." She exerted more control over herself, brought the gun back up.
"Please don't do this, oh god, please," he begged, still not really able to reconcile that the woman he loved and wanted to marry had a gun pointed at him, thinking of all the things he still had to do, his family. Would they ever know what happened to him?
"I want you to know this is for the greater good. Okay? This isn't some drug ring or identity theft or something. We're trying to make the world a better place." Her face crumbled again. "God forgive me," she cried. Then her face hardened.