Bloody Hands

Racing through my mind was nothing. I couldn't speak, nor think.

The kiss was broken. I stared into his eyes. It made me remember him. My heart was beating so fast that I felt like it was about to explode.

"Well." he said.

My mind seemed to come back. I quickly slapped him on the face. "What was that for?" he said, stumbling to his feet. There was some blood, but I tried to ignore it.

I got up from the ground and stared at him. How can I explain to this dumbass that doesn't realize how much he's tortured me? I attempted to explain this.

His expression changed into anger. "Well how was I supposed to bring it?!"

"You TORTURED me! And you think that's acceptable? If you want me to have any sort of INTEREST in you WHY would you torture me?!"

His expression lightened. In a second, his arms were around me.

The warmth of a hug warmed my heart in a weird way. I began to cry, thinking of home. Family. My old friends.

The world seemed to fade, as rain fell, dousing the fire. I broke the hug. "You killed...You destroyed..." I could finish the words. If I was feeling any sort of attraction to this man, I was insane myself.

"We can rule together. Nothing will stop us." He grabbed my shoulders and stared into my eyes.

Tears came down. "No...I will never--" I got choked up. "I wouldn't kill anyone."

His expression became firm. "You--don't like me?"

The ignorance of this man.

"What's there to like? You tortured me, killed my friends--maybe my family--destroyed my life! You're a . . . Monster."

The word monster.

He'd heard it. He'd hated it. It was his weakness.

I saw the angry tears stream down his face as he pushed me over. I wasn't really hurt, but he was emotionally. "You're just like the others!" he turned around. "The other ones. 'Monster.' Weird. Stupid. Lame."

I didn't know what to say.

In the time range of 5 seconds, he jumped on top of me, and stared at me. "Liam...Remember." I said.

He sliced my cheek with a knife. I winced in pain, but I couldn't show fear, or much pain. I felt blood drizzle down my cheek.

"Remember who you were. You're not like this. . . Stop it. Stop..."

He raised his knife.

I shut my eyes, tears coming out.

After he hadn't killed me, I opened them.

He got off of me, and sat down, and began to cry. "Why didn't I ever fit in? Why did they do this to me?"

"Kids are asses." I grinned, but I didn't get a smirk out of him.

"This is why I hate America. Just a bunch of fat asses running around claiming to know shit when they're stupid as hell."

"People aren't perfect." I said.

His eyes met mine. "That's why their dying."