They Say That True Love Hurts, Well This Could Almost Kill Me

The long wait was agony.

Death took too long, you know. Just in case you didn’t. I was scared out of my mind, before. But now, I just wanted to get it over with.

I am such a wuss, I suddenly thought. You give up to easily. Die with dignity, and at least fight back!

Should I? It would be more painful, but the other was right. I would die with dignity. That would definitely be something to take to my grave, you know.

Then, I started singing in a voice just above a whisper, “If I die young, bury me in satin. Lay me down on a….bed of roses! Sink me in the river….at dawn. Send me-e-e away with the words of a love song….”

Suddenly, with a sickening boom, the door swung open, and then fell off its hinges as it hit the wall. I covered my ears, waiting for him to do something horrible that would leave a blotching bruise, or a pool of blood.

“Get up.” He said, lowly. I gulped, but did as he said.

I was suddenly against the wall, my back hitting it with a large slam. I almost cried out, the pain ebbing from the cuts and bruises, but my hands flew to my mouth. I was afraid to scream, afraid that any sudden movement would tick him off.

But I was going to lose it if he touched me ever again.

Suddenly, something came over me. A wave of anger and white-hot rage that boiled me from head to toe. Adrenaline pumped through me, and in the heat of the moment, I started hitting him.

Mostly on his chest, because my eyes were closed, and I was doing it blindly. Afraid to look at his face. “Stop! Stop! J-just stop!”

Tempest’s POV:
I watched as she repeatedly hit my chest. It wasn’t her hardest strike, but she was scared, and this caused her to react on instinct.

“Please don’t….” She sobbed, eyes still closed, and her balled fists la against my chest. Her legs weakly stood.

I didn’t know what came over me then. I suddenly wanted to hold her, and comfort her. Disgust washed over me, but it disappeared, then came back. There was a constant tugging in my mind, half of it wanting to kill her, and the other telling me otherwise.

Blaze’s knees buckled, and she fell to the ground at my feet, sobbing hysterically. Waiting for what I should be doing.

Killing her.

“I-I’m sorry. Your father….he—“ She didn’t take the time to finish, though she wasn’t sobbing anymore. She had wiped her tears, and looked straight into my eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was brave or stupid.

The anger won over the want to hold her.

How dare she speak of my father….

I hit her. Did what she was expecting. It was on the side of her head, and hard. She fell to the ground, all the way.

But what was this faint feeling of regret?

Blaze’s POV:
He had struck me at the side of the head, which I knew was not his full strength. Why was he holding back?

There were endless moments of me waiting for him to hit me again. Then again, and again, until I ended up on the ground, lifeless.

But, either way, I didn’t let another tear escape.

So, struggling, I got on my feet. I pushed myself against the wall, trying to back away farther, but it was no use.

He stepped closer, threatening, and with that, I closed my eyes, breathing in my possible last breath, and waited for the blow.

Instead, his hand went through the wall beside me.

I peeked one eye open, looking at where his hand went through the wall. He pulled it out, and angrily stalked toward the bed, getting in, and shutting off the light.

I shuddered out the breath I had been holding. I slid down the wall, my body shaking, my heart pumping against the walls of my chest.

I sat there, thinking about how close I had been to losing my life.