My Black Dahlia
Im sorry... Hello no! *** that!
I remember when I used to call her the love of my life. She was my life; everything. Now I’m burying my life six feet into the ground.
Elizabeth was her name. She was one of the most striking creations put on this earth. She doesn’t look so pretty though now... now does she? Hence the fact she wears a Chelsea grin and her body has become a human jigsaw puzzle. Oh, my little Black Dahlia.
I patted down the wet dirt with my muddy shovel. I wiped raindrops from my forehead with my sleeve. My deed was done. I made my way out of the moist woods and worked my way towards my white rusty Ford parked on a dirt road.
Leaning my backside against my car, I made sure I had left no signs of my presence rather than tire tracks. I watched the trees swing in the humid wind and noticed shadows fly around me. The sun was coming up soon. I could feel the heat beat against my skin. I sighed with relief. I wouldn’t have to suffer from her anymore. She was gone as was my pain.
Satisfied I worked my key into the door unlocking it. I sat in the driver’s seat and searched for a cigarette. I had only three left out of my brand new pack. Damn. I guess anxiety overcame me on the drive here. I lit one and inhaled the nicotine, slowly exhaling.
The story of Elizabeth will only be told once more then shall forever be locked inside my heart. So listen closely, darlings.
We had a love-hate relationship, Elizabeth and I. We were those types of couples that stayed together for years but hated each other’s guts behind each other’s back. The kind of duo that broke up every other week because one wouldn’t compromise with the other, and all that mumbo-jumbo. Yet we still loved each other with everything we had.
That act was getting old. I was changing for nameless reasons. I was wanting more from her. I guess she grew tired of that act though.
I never would’ve guess. She left me without warning.
When I asked why she was leaving she said she “just didn’t love me anymore”. Rip my heart out, why don’t you? I have feelings. I hurt and love just the same. I don’t understand why she would do this to me. I gave her the world, but I suppose I took that away from her as well.
I couldn’t stop loving her after she abandoned me. I wouldn’t stop loving her. I became obsessed with the thought of her.
Everyone and thing reminded me of her. I could hear her calling my name from time to time. I would dream of her beautiful structure every night. It was as if she never left.
Then I started remembering. I started remembering how she used to treat me before I started my mysterious changes. She used to control me.
“Jorel do this. Jorel do that.”
And the fits she would throw if I wouldn’t do exactly what she asked.
“Are you retarded? You’re doing this all wrong! This isn’t what I asked for!”
That’s when my sadness turned into anger. I couldn’t get over her. I wanted her tortured. I wanted her to suffer like I did. Which is exactly what I did.
I contacted her. I told her I missed her and convinced her to meet with me for a cup of coffee or something of that nature—Just as friends. She agreed. I managed to slip a couple crushed prescribed Ambiens into her drink. Which turn her lights out her as soon was she managed to sit in her car. I moved her to the passenger seat of my car and drove her out here. I don’t know exactly where, but I’ll find out as I make my own way back home.
I decided I’d have my way with her until she woke up. I bound her hands and legs together. Covering her mouth would be pointless seeing there wouldn’t be anyone around for another 20 mile radius or so. Plus I wanted to hear her scream my name one last time. I wanted to hear her say she’s sorry. Not that I’d accept her apology. I thought maybe a few hello’s from Mr. Razorblade against her face would wake her up—maybe make her shriek a little.
I sliced the corners of her mouth.
“Wake up, sweetheart.” I whispered in her ear. I kicked her in her stomach. I heard her shriek and her skin rip apart, followed by more cries.
“Why are you doing this!” she’d say. “Let me go! I’m so sorry!”
I continued to slowly slice her, and before I could hear her say anymore I stroked a knife across her pretty little neck. I felt blood splatter upon my face. I ripped her to pieces. She resembled my heart from now on. Shattered and broken.
And now this leads me back to the start. I feel refreshed in a sick and twisted way, but I know she won’t be able to hurt anyone any longer.
Elizabeth was her name. She was one of the most striking creations put on this earth. She doesn’t look so pretty though now... now does she? Hence the fact she wears a Chelsea grin and her body has become a human jigsaw puzzle. Oh, my little Black Dahlia.
I patted down the wet dirt with my muddy shovel. I wiped raindrops from my forehead with my sleeve. My deed was done. I made my way out of the moist woods and worked my way towards my white rusty Ford parked on a dirt road.
Leaning my backside against my car, I made sure I had left no signs of my presence rather than tire tracks. I watched the trees swing in the humid wind and noticed shadows fly around me. The sun was coming up soon. I could feel the heat beat against my skin. I sighed with relief. I wouldn’t have to suffer from her anymore. She was gone as was my pain.
Satisfied I worked my key into the door unlocking it. I sat in the driver’s seat and searched for a cigarette. I had only three left out of my brand new pack. Damn. I guess anxiety overcame me on the drive here. I lit one and inhaled the nicotine, slowly exhaling.
The story of Elizabeth will only be told once more then shall forever be locked inside my heart. So listen closely, darlings.
We had a love-hate relationship, Elizabeth and I. We were those types of couples that stayed together for years but hated each other’s guts behind each other’s back. The kind of duo that broke up every other week because one wouldn’t compromise with the other, and all that mumbo-jumbo. Yet we still loved each other with everything we had.
That act was getting old. I was changing for nameless reasons. I was wanting more from her. I guess she grew tired of that act though.
I never would’ve guess. She left me without warning.
When I asked why she was leaving she said she “just didn’t love me anymore”. Rip my heart out, why don’t you? I have feelings. I hurt and love just the same. I don’t understand why she would do this to me. I gave her the world, but I suppose I took that away from her as well.
I couldn’t stop loving her after she abandoned me. I wouldn’t stop loving her. I became obsessed with the thought of her.
Everyone and thing reminded me of her. I could hear her calling my name from time to time. I would dream of her beautiful structure every night. It was as if she never left.
Then I started remembering. I started remembering how she used to treat me before I started my mysterious changes. She used to control me.
“Jorel do this. Jorel do that.”
And the fits she would throw if I wouldn’t do exactly what she asked.
“Are you retarded? You’re doing this all wrong! This isn’t what I asked for!”
That’s when my sadness turned into anger. I couldn’t get over her. I wanted her tortured. I wanted her to suffer like I did. Which is exactly what I did.
I contacted her. I told her I missed her and convinced her to meet with me for a cup of coffee or something of that nature—Just as friends. She agreed. I managed to slip a couple crushed prescribed Ambiens into her drink. Which turn her lights out her as soon was she managed to sit in her car. I moved her to the passenger seat of my car and drove her out here. I don’t know exactly where, but I’ll find out as I make my own way back home.
I decided I’d have my way with her until she woke up. I bound her hands and legs together. Covering her mouth would be pointless seeing there wouldn’t be anyone around for another 20 mile radius or so. Plus I wanted to hear her scream my name one last time. I wanted to hear her say she’s sorry. Not that I’d accept her apology. I thought maybe a few hello’s from Mr. Razorblade against her face would wake her up—maybe make her shriek a little.
I sliced the corners of her mouth.
“Wake up, sweetheart.” I whispered in her ear. I kicked her in her stomach. I heard her shriek and her skin rip apart, followed by more cries.
“Why are you doing this!” she’d say. “Let me go! I’m so sorry!”
I continued to slowly slice her, and before I could hear her say anymore I stroked a knife across her pretty little neck. I felt blood splatter upon my face. I ripped her to pieces. She resembled my heart from now on. Shattered and broken.
And now this leads me back to the start. I feel refreshed in a sick and twisted way, but I know she won’t be able to hurt anyone any longer.