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No
That was the first thing that went through her mind.
No. Please oh please no.
It was horrible, but she couldn’t turn her head away. All she could do was stare at his lifeless body, at the blood splattered across his bed and on the walls. She pressed one hand to her mouth, against the distant feeling of disgust and horror. It was dull, as though the full horror of the situation hadn’t yet sunk in. Every cell in her body was rejecting the terrifying scene in front of her. One minute movement could jar her back to reality, so she stayed frozen in the doorway.
This isn’t real. It can’t be real.
She wouldn’t change her opinion, she couldn’t force herself to. But all it took was one step into the room, and it all hit her. He was dead, committed suicide, the authorities said. Bile rose in her throat and it took all her will to keep going. Next to his hand, half-crumpled, was a piece of paper. Slowly, hand shaking, she picked it up and smoothed it out on her palm.
No more.
She read.
I can’t take it anymore. Keeping her horrible secret all this time. I can’t believe I though I loved a monster like her. No more. This ends now.
She had to read the note again to believe it. This couldn’t be. She had trusted him with her secret, and it made him hate her. More then that, it killed him. How? How could he have hated her so much? No, wait, this wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. It didn’t sound like him. She read the note one more time, to make sure. It wasn’t even his handwriting. Close, but not the same. In an almost unwelcome surge of relief that he hadn’t hated her, she let her head fall forward. Her hair slipped over her shoulder and into view, bringing with it an unbidden memory.
“Hey, what’d you do to your hair?”
She paused, just as he stepped through the doorway to meet her. “Well, I kind of got bored with my regular brown hair, so I added streaks.” She confessed.
He grinned, making her whole day seem a heck of a lot better. “Of every color of the rainbow?”
She had to grin in reply. “Yeah, I couldn’t decide on one color. Why, do you like it?” The sudden doubt of his opinion made her decision seem less exciting. “I can dye it back.”
He laughed, reading her face like a book. “I love it. Don’t ever change it.”
Jolting herself back to reality, she was startled to feel tears rolling down her cheeks.
I should cut it off.
She decided, catching view of her hair once more. He was dead, gone. No reason to keep it the same way, right? On sudden impulse, she ripped her hair out of it’s ties and grabbed a pair of scissors from the bedside table. Smeared with blood, they were supposedly the suicide weapon. She yanked a clump of hair in front of her face and lifted the scissors. But she hesitated. Something in her rebelled against chopping off the locks he so loved.
Fine. I’ll never cut my hair. I’ll never change it, and never forget him.
She dropped the scissors again. Once more she turned her tear-stained face to the horrific scene before her. Her fist tightened around the letter in her hand. She knew three things for sure: One, he hadn’t committed suicide, but was murdered in his own bed. Two: She would find out who murdered him, and kill them. Three: She would never again get close to anyone, never again trust a person with her secret, lest they become a target. She would never again cry, or laugh, with him or anyone else.
“Kasmira?” When she spun to face him, Gadget was startled to see a change. Yes, there were tear-tracks down her cheeks, but there was a new look in her eyes. An emptiness that wasn’t there before. And, behind that, a cold determination.
She rubbed the tears off her face, and with them all remaining emotion. She would never, ever cry again. But she would always remember this day, and the decisions she made.
Written from the point of view of one of my charactors, incase anyone can't tell.
 Faith-Hoping-Love · Wed Nov 21, 2007 @ 12:27am · 1 Comments |
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