In comes the dawn, new beginings #writephoto


This is part two of a fictional tale about fairies, love and death… (for the first part, click here.)

 

The full moon was waning, and that meant a sacrifice needed to be made soon. But Tara and Sam continued to lay naked, wrapped in each others arms. For the first time in decades, they tried to ignore the harvest moon’s demand for blood. For the first time, they questioned the law of their kind.

They both stared at the moon, silently pleading for it to give them another choice. As forest fairies, there was one night, and one night only where they had to spill blood. Human blood was preferred over killing a fellow forest fairy, but either way, the harvest moon’s demand had to be filled. And tonight was that night. Yet, neither of them moved, unifying their protest.

Though they had just met earlier that day, and both had the original intention of killing each other, their feelings had changed. Their meeting had sparked something inside them. It had created a desire, laughter and hope they had not known. It was also the first time they had both met another forest fairy. Their kind had dramatically dwindled over the past century and they understood why. Fairies were generally kindhearted spirits. And many over the years, died from that fault. Some refused the adult law of the annual sacrifice, and became sacrifices themselves. Others were hunted, captured and tested on by the government in earlier years. Forced into hiding, these magical fairies slowly became  folklore and myths, and simply just started to disappear. But they were indeed real, and here two lay, denying the annual sacrifice and risking their own survival.

“We are running out of time,” whispered Tara.

“I know. I just keep thinking that there has to be another way.”

“Me too.”

They both continued to lay there silently. Time they didn’t have ticked away.

Sam broke the silence. “Let’s get up before we run out of time. Let’s go hunt, together. For another option.”

“Yes. Perhaps the harvest moon will provide,” replied Tara.

“If it wants us to exist, I hope it does–and soon.”

With that, Tara and Sam got dressed and left the comfort of the waterfall and headed North. They moved through the woods quickly and quietly with Tara in the lead. Though Sam was a natural in the woods, like all forest fairies, this forest was Tara’s home and had been for nearly 100 years. She knew it intimately and headed towards the outskirts of the small desolate town. For over a mile, they moved in silence, neither wanting to acknowledge the lack of time they both had.

Then, suddenly Tara stopped. Sam watched her silently and then heard it too. Screams to the West. Horrible screams. Without a word, Tara took off running towards the distant sound. Sam followed her without question and wondered, Maybe the moon is giving us another option?

As they neared the source of cries, they slowed down trying to determine the situation. Together, two people who had prepared on killing someone in sacrifice before the night was over, stood frozen in horror at the scene they had just run to. At least when they had to kill, they did it quickly and humanly. This scene was just brutal.

There, in the middle of the woods, was a crazed man attacking a woman. She was on her stomach, desperately trying to crawl. Clinging to roots and grasping at the ground, she tried to distance herself from him. But his knife found the flesh of her back and, from the amount of blood covering her, several other places on her body.

Sam lunged forward, “This is our second chance. I’ll take him. You get her.”

Tara ran towards the blood with Sam. When he got close to man he grabbed the knife from his hand, throwing it into the brush. Then, he pounced on the attacker, pulling him off the woman.

Tara grabbed the woman and rolled her over onto her back. She had every intent on finishing her off. She looked near dead anyway, and this was her sacrifice now, thanks to the harvest moon. However, when she looked down at the woman, she froze. The bloodied victim was pregnant. Tara had not expected this and fairy laws were clear. Children were never to be harmed. Ever. Only adults could be a sacrifice. Only adult blood of a human or forest fairy would count. Killing a child would be worse than making no sacrifice at all. In fact, it guaranteed eternal torture.

The pregnant woman looked up at Tara, stretching her arms out to hold her belly.

“Pa..Pa..Pleeeasse help my baby,” whimpered the woman. Instinctively, Tara pulled her torn garment off her stomach. She wiped away the blood as best she could to see her wounds.  She was covered in scratches and blood, but there only appeared to be one shallow stab wound on her stomach.

“You belly looks ok. There is only one cut and it’s shallow,” reported Tara.

“I turned. I tried to protect… please help my baby. Don’t let it die,” pleaded the woman.

“Of course you did,” Tara smiled while rubbing the lady’s forehead. “You did great.”

“Something’s wrong. I cannot feel the baby. I cannot feel…Please. Oooohhh. Please. Please don’t let my baby die.”

Tara wasn’t a doctor, but she had lived in the forest for nearly 100 years. She’d seen many lives end, as well as begin. These were typically animals lives though. However, she wasn’t ignorant to human life and had always tried to make her harvest moon sacrifices as painless as possible.

In her century of life, she had had to learn about regular humans. Sometimes, it was merely out of curiosity. Other times, she was on a mission to study them so her encounters with them would not raise suspicions.  She needed to blend in to survive. All her experiences combined with her fairy senses, told her enough to agree with this woman. It didn’t look good for her or her baby.

As she stared down at the woman, she ran her hand over the mother’s belly. Then, she laid her hands on the woman’s head. She could feel life slipping away from the woman. Yet, the baby felt strong so far. But unless the baby was delivered soon, Tara knew, it would die with the mother.

Just then, Sam ran over.  Tara glanced up at him, and then over to the attacker who lay on the ground, still and lifeless. She knew Sam had made his sacrifice and from the scene they came upon, the world would not miss that human in the least.

Tara looked back at Sam. “She’s pregnant.”

Immediately, Sam knelt next to Tara. “How is the baby?”

“It seems fine surprisingly, but probably not for long,” Tara stated as she looked over the mother. “She’s bleeding a lot, but doesn’t seem to be in labor.”

“We have to save the baby,” said Sam while discovering a deep wound along the woman’s neck. She whimpered under the pressure of his hands. “I don’t think she is going to make it. This gash is so deep.”

“And there are several more on her back,” replied Tara.

“Save…my, my baby…my baby,” stammered the woman who had started to fall in and out of consciousness.

“We will my dear. We will. You did a great job protecting it. You were so very brave,” soothed Tara. She looked up at Sam. “This baby is not coming naturally, but it has to come now or it will die with her.”

Sam felt the woman’s belly, then her head. He was trying to sense the life of each spirit, like Tara had done moments before. He looked up at Tara. “I think your right. She’s going to die regardless. We both know that. But either way, we have to save the baby.”

“Let me at least give her some comfort. She has suffered enough,” said Tara. “Get my backpack.” Sam ran over to where they had stopped and discovered the brutal scene. He grabbed the backpack she had thrown aside and brought it to her.

Tara quickly pulled out a bottle of water and a large rolled up leaf from her bag. She unrolled the leaf and pulled out a pinch of the enclosed crushed herbs.

“Good idea,” said Sam when he recognized the herbal concoction that would give the woman a sense of comfort and euphoria.

“I can at least give her peace before she dies.”

Sam nodded and stood up, giving Tara room. Tara leaned over the woman’s head and put the herbs on her tongue. Then, she  poured a tiny bit of water into her mouth, causing her to swallow.

Meanwhile, Sam walked over to where he had thrown the attacker’s knife. After a few minutes, he found the bloody blade and returned to Tara and the dying mother who was now feeling no pain.

When he reached them, Tara had her hands over the woman’s mouth and nose, putting her out of her misery. And as a result, had just fufilled her official harvest moon sacrifice. Sam paused, knowing this fact would not matter if the child was not saved. He stood there, holding the knife in Tara’s sight and announced, “You are going to need this since there is no labor, and the baby must live.”

“I know. I know. But you can’t help me. If I mess up, I want this only on me. It can only be by my hands,” Tara said, looking at the knife.

Sam knelt down beside her and grabbed her hand. “No. You’ve made your sacrifice with kindness. I have made mine defending another. The harvest moon’s demands have been met. It gave us another option. Now, we will save this baby together. And together, we shall remain.”

Tara looked at him. “OK. But if we fail, we will both go to the Casism, instead of just me.”

“Yes, so the law says when you kill a child,” Sam replied coldly. “But…if we succeed, we will be bonded together forever by saving a child on the harvest moon. We have a chance at a blessing I never thought was possible. Not until I met you Tara.”

Tara stared at him realizing that he was referring to ancient fairy blessing that bound two lovers together when they saved a child on a harvest moon. It was more than a spiritual binding too. It was blessing so deep that it released them from the harvest moon’s annual call for blood. By saving the child together, on this night, they would not only be saved from the horror of life in the Casism, but they would be forever freed from the one night of horror that forest fairies dreaded. And, they could stay mated forever.

Tara nodded, “I had not thought of that Sam. I had almost forgotten that legend.”

“So, we will do it together,” he replied and leaned in to give her a kiss.

“Together,” she repeated. “We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

“Yes. Indeed we do. So, together forever. By dawn, it will a new begging for the three of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Cracked snowglobe


The cold tunnel shielded the wind, almost making it warm. But the cold wasn’t why he hid in the tunnel really. He had practically lost all ability to feel more pain. His heart was numb. So, he didn’t hid from the cold but rather the reality of what had become his life.

Mark stared at the view like he was looking into a snow globe. The lights reflected off the shimmering river. The crisp white flakes of lace blanketed the sloped bank. And it was quiet, and peaceful. It wasn’t at all like the flashing scenes of darkness and screaming in his head.

It was in these moments of peace he remembered his life. Well, his life before this. It wasn’t perfect but it was perfect enough. He was happy man, a respected man and a hopeful man. He remembered Amanda, her smile, her laugh. He’d known his wife since they met in middle school. And since then, they were inseparable. After college, they got married and all the town could say was, what took you so long. They were in no rush though. They had each other.

About a year after being married, they found out they were pregnant. They practically glowed in happiness as they moved about town. People couldn’t help but stare at them and smile. They were the perfect couple.

Then, one night it was all ruined.

As Amanda and Mark returned from an evening out, a drunk driver slammed into their car, on the passenger side, where Amanda sat. The idiot was driving so fast, his car collided with enough force to pin Amanda in the car. After the initial shock of the hit, Mark regained consciousness. He could hear Amanda screaming, crying out. Oh my God! Mark! The baby! I can’t feel it. I can’t feel anything!

Mark scrambled about the car, wobbly from his own injuries. But he could move. Amanda couldn’t. Her car door was crushing her into her seat. Mark held her hand. Kissed her. And laid his head on her stomach. Hold on little one. Don’t you leave me. Please don’t leave me.

His pleas were not enough though. Amanda and the baby left Mark that night. And with them, his heart and feelings died too. Since then, Mark lived in a daze. Not really alive but not yet dead either. He felt dead though. But until that happened, he would sit here and push away the screams of that horrible day, and sit here and watch the snow globe and pretend it wasn’t cracked.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Open Minded Love


We stood staring at each other, trying to look tough, yet friendly. He was really no different than me. He was a Soldier. His boots carried the same dust. His hands wore the same calluses. His eyes shielded the same mix of hope weighed down with pain.

We both had been fighting this war and lost loved ones. We both needed and wanted progress to validate our time, our loss. As he outstretched his arms in greeting, I realized he was different than me in some ways too though.

“Friend. Welcome. I am Abdul. Come. Sit with me. Let’s talk,” said the Iraqi Soldier. Yes, Abdul was different than me because the war he had been fighting was in his streets, and was endangering the country he loved. I dearly wanted peace for our Iraqi friends, but it was still not my home. My wife and kids were home in the United States. They were safe. Abdul’s were not.

“…My wife and son were killed by last year…I fight for my country and for God now…I fight with my American brothers…” said Abdul with a determined face. I recognized that piercing look. I had a similar look when my unit was attacked on my previous tour. I remember the gunfire, the explosions and my battle buddy falling. I remember the blood on my hands as I tried to save Cooper, as I tried to stop his bleeding. I couldn’t and part of me died with him that day. So I knew Abdul’s look and nodded my understanding.

“I will fight with you my brother. I too have lost loved ones. My closest friend, my Army brother, died in Ramadi last year….I miss him everyday…”

Abdul nodded and we began to talk about how we would work together to train and fight. My soldiers were to work side by side with his soldiers to teach them tactics. Together, American and Iraqi soldiers, would join to fight the hatred in his land.

As I started working daily with Abdul, I realized just how alike we were. He was not at all like the stereotype of middle Eastern men. He was just a man. He had loved his wife and boy. The unimaginable loss of them nearly crippled him, like when I lost Cooper. He enjoyed Army life like I did: the hard work, the strategic challenge, the physicality. He cherished a cool breeze on a quiet night. He appreciated a good sporting event. He’d die for his fellow soldier. Yes, we were very much the same.

After several months, Abdul and his team were ready. They would take over the training of their own Army. They would spearhead the charge and lead their own country into peace…or so I thought.

In moments, all the progress was undone. All the bounds we had built were broken.

Abdul and I were walking to the front of a crowd, to speak with a village elder. As the elder approached us, another soldier, one of Abdul’s, ran forward screaming, Allahu Akbar. Abdul, after looking at me, ran towards his soldier tackling him and pulling him away from me and the elder, who I threw myself on. Before Abdul and his soldier hit the ground, an explosion shook the area. Everyone fell to the ground that was not thrown there by the blast. Black smoke filled the air. Blood covered the ground. Screams filled the air. For a second, I lay there trying to digest what had happened. I jumped up. Looked at the elder’s minor wounds, and then turned to look for Abdul. He lay there, mangled and bleeding out. Yet, miraculously, he was still conscious.

“The elder is good? You are good brother?”

“Yes, you saved us Abdul. Now stop talking. Save your energy. You are getting out of here,” I lied.

Abdul struggled a small smile. “Don’t lie to me brother. It’s good. I will be a martyr.”

I grabbed Abdul’s face and knelt down near him. “You will always be a martyr and my friend. You have lived up to your name. You are truly a servant of God Abdul.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the Discovery Challenge – Open Minded.

A fictional story on the complexities of war: becoming partners with local forces when it is a strong possibility that there is could be one or two extremists in the ranks. Though this story is fictional, I have heard of like real-life stories of multinational soldiers bonding and then suffering in one kind of attack or another. Once you become a “battle buddy” or “brother” with another soldier, that bond is strong, and differences fade away. To all those soldiers, both foreign and American, who have died, you are not forgotten.

Memories on my Cheeks


She stood alone on the deck, watching the waves roll and swell. The cold wind blew in gusts, but she remained still. The wind was not as cold as her heart, so she ignored it. The last time she saw the ocean, life was different, better, and warmer, and that was just last year.

She remembered him with a smile. Like the storm, he blew into her life suddenly. But she had welcomed the disruption. She couldn’t fight it, even if she had wanted to. He was charming, brave, and noble. He made her laugh. And oh, those eyes of his had made her weak in the knees. After their first blind date, she was hooked. He was her person, and even better, she was his.

The whirlwind romance took off quickly. Some said, maybe too quickly. Karen and Matt never thought that though. They were hungry for time together, each other. That became obvious to their friends and the “too fast-too soon” worries faded away. And after a couple of months, their friends couldn’t even remember Karen and Matt being single. They seemed to be made for each other, a perfect match.

Karen sighed as she recalled Matt, his touch, his laugh, his kiss. He had a way of calming her when no one else could. And he’d make her laugh till her stomach hurt. She ran her hand across her stomach and smiled. “Oh Matt, you’d be laughing now. I wish you were here,” she whispered to the wind.

He was supposed to be here, on this cruise with her. It was going to be their one-year dating anniversary celebration. Now, everything was different. The happy trajectory of her life had stopped immediately when a bullet ripped through Matt’s body while he was on patrol. Her worst nightmare had come true that day, and part of her died when she saw his fellow officers walk towards her with their somber faces. “Karen, we are so sorry….Matt was killed….in the line of duty…” It was a memory like no other, one that would not go away. The scene was burned into her head and froze her in place, like it did now.

“Are you OK sweetheart? Can I help get back inside? This storm looks like it’s getting nasty,” said a fellow cruise ship passenger.

Karen looked up to find an older woman with a kind face staring at her. “Um, no. I am fine.”

The lady smiled and nodded. “Well, do you need an ear? I couldn’t help but notice your crying my dear. Cruise ships are not normally a place for tears, so I thought I’d see if you needed something.”

Karen reached up and wiped the tears from her face. “I didn’t even notice I was crying. Sometimes memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks I guess.”

“I understand. I’ve had those kind of tears myself. They never leave you, but they do get easier in time.”

Karen took a deep breath and tried to smile.

Then, the two women stood in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the storm as they held onto the deck railing.

Finally, the kind woman looked at Karen. “When are you due dear?”

Karen looked down at her barely bulging belly and caressed it. “In January. I’m about four months now, is it that obvious?”

“It is to a woman who knows that look. I work in a women’s clinic. But to others my dear, I am sure they haven’t even noticed since you look fabulous.”

Karen smiled weakly. “Thanks. But I guess it’s time I let my family know. I’ve just been waiting for a better time.”

“And when would that be?”

“I thought it was about two months ago, but that’s when my soulmate, Matt, was killed. He was a police officer, and someone ambushed him…now, he’s gone…and I’m here on our cruise…alone.” She looked down at her belly and laid her hand on it. “Well, sort of alone.”

“I see. That explains the memories streaking your face. I thought I had recognized that look too. You see, my Frank was stolen from me too. Not the same way, of course. He was in a car accident. Three years ago. I miss him every day, every second, and I thought I recognized that pain.”

Karen looked the woman in the eye. “Does it ever go away?

“I wish it did sweetie, but no. But, you can find a new normal, in time. And, what a blessing he left with you,” she gestured to her belly.

“Yes, indeed. I just wish…I had been able…to tell him…He died the day I was going to tell him…I waited too long,” Karen struggle to get out through breaths.

Just then, a big wind gust created a small shower of flower petals from a nearby plant and thrust open the double doors across the deck. The woman and Karen looked at each other and smiled.

“I’m thinking your Matt knows my dear, and just might want you to get out of this storm.”

Karen looked around, like she finally realized the storm’s presence.

“Oh. Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

The woman held out her hand. “Come. Let’s get a cup of coffee. You can tell me how you met Matt and I can tell you how I met Frank. It was really romantic too.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Karen said as she walked toward the kind stranger and out of the storm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For Writer’s Quote Wednesday’s Challenge ~ Memories.

&

For the Discover Challenge ~ The Things We Leave Behind.

 

No Chance of Return


******Warning – Little dark and violent here.************

 

With trembling fingers I called for help. Rick lived close by, and I prayed he could help me before I wound up dead, or worse.

“God, please let him answer,” I whispered.

He picked up, “Hey Amy. When I said we needed to crunch the numbers immediately, I didn’t mean now. It can wait…”

“Rick! HELP ME please! He’s here somewhere and I think he drugged me. Oh my God. He’s coming, I know it!”

“What? Are you at your house?”

“Yes! Please hurry. I’m scared and can’t really walk. My head is spinning. I feel like I am going to faint.”

“I’m coming Amy. It will be OK.  I’m only a few blocks away. I was out running. Stay on the phone with me. Tell me what happened.”

“After taking a shower, I had a glass of wine from that basket you all left me.”

“We didn’t leave you any wine basket Amy.”

“I know THAT now! He left me a note. It was mixed in with the mail. He said he’d be here when I woke up from my wine nap. Oh my God. He must have poisoned it! He’s coming…here. I thought I lost him….I….can’t do this….not again. Oh God.” I started to hyperventilate and shake worse.

“I’m coming Amy. I won’t let him hurt you again. How the heck did he find you?”

….gasping for air…”I…don’t know. I thought…I did everything to cover my tracks.”

“Amy listen to me! You need to calm down. If you are right, he will be there soon.”

I managed to stammer, in between sobs and dramatic inhales of ragged breath, “Rick, I’m scared. I can’t…I don’t know what to do…my legs won’t really move.”

“Amy! Stop! Take a breath. I am on my way, but I need you to grab something to protect yourself with. Can you walk?”

My legs were tingling and uncooperative. My head was spinning. Everything was getting fuzzy. “No! Oh my God no!”

“Then grab something near you. Anything that could cut him.”

I looked around the kitchen, the counter. All I could see and reach was the mail and the wine opener. Unless I wanted to paper cut the sick bastard to death, the wine opener was it, my weapon. I grabbed it with trebling fingers. “I have a wine opener.”

“OK. Now crawl into a closet if you can and be quiet. I am only a few minutes away. The code is the same right? ”

“Yes…Right. OK. Um…yes, it’s the…” I stopped mid sentence. I thought I heard something. I froze everything, even my breath. I listened hard and heard nothing. Then, I slowly and quietly drug my numb body over to the pantry, across the cold tile floor. “I think he’s here. I thought I heard something.”

“Fuck! I am almost there. Amy! Don’t give up now. I am coming. Fight Amy. Fight, if you need to. Have you called the cops?”

I was whispering now. “I’m in the pantry now. I don’t hear anything now. Maybe I was wrong. I’m not sure…um, no, I called you first since police couldn’t help me much in the three years of him stalking me.””

“Just stay there and wait for me. I’m calling the police too Amy,” Rick panted.

Then, I heard HIS footsteps, and my stalker’s voice cut through my hope like knife.

“Honey, I’m home… What’s for dinner my love?…..Are you hiding my dear? Oh, your such a playful kitten.”

All my breath stopped. I was frozen in fear. My mind raced over the three years where he stalked me relentlessly. He sent me “presents.” He called constantly. I asked him to stop and it just got worse. I remembered his nails digging into my arms. I could still hear his rage as he whispered threats into my ears. I got a restraining order that was of no help. His “affection”only  increased and got more intense the harder I avoided him. However, the last straw for me was when he had drugged me and videotaped me sleeping  in my own home. And on the tape, he promised another visit when I was awake so he could “love me hard like I deserved.” That was when I moved. No, that was when I ran away from my life, changing everything I was. Now, I was a new woman in a new place with a new look and a new job. I even had a new name.

None of that mattered though. Here he was anyway. He found me. And now, I would pay for running away from him.

“Amy? Are you there? Are you OK?” Rick called out over the phone.

I didn’t answer. I was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe.

“Amy?…Oh, God. Hang on. I am almost there!” Rick promised.

I could here HIM creeping around the kitchen, whistling and humming.

“Oh my darling. We are together at last. I am sorry it took so long for me to find you,” he sung. “I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again, but you will need to be punished some for hiding. You naughty little kitten.”

I trembled on the floor in the pantry. A tear ran down my cheek slowly. My nightmare was here…but I was awake. Dear God, please give me the strength. Please make Rick get here quick, I thought.

Just then, the pantry door flung open. And there before me stood a demon looking down on me with hungry eyes.

“Oh Amy my love. Why are you hiding from me? After all we’ve been through darling,” he sighed. “I was hoping you would be a good girl. But that’s OK. I’m starting to think you WANT to be punished my little kitten.”

I said nothing. My head was fuzzy from whatever the hell he put in the wine. And I was afraid to enrage him more, so I sat, even tried to smile. It must have looked as insane as he was.

He grabbed my legs and slid me out of the pantry darkness. “Come my darling. I have a surprise for you.” As he pulled me, I had tucked my phone into the pocket of my robe with one hand and put the wine opener into my other palm, clenching my fingers around the metal spiral, which I tucked under my robe that was draped over my leg.

“Oh, there we go. Now I can see you,” he cooed. “Look! I think you are happy to see me! I see a little smile.” He bent down and licked my cheek.

I drew back in revulsion.

“Oh come on dear. Don’t act like that,” he smiled.  “It took me so long to find you. You must be so hungry for me. I know that I am for YOU,” he said as he ran his hand along my one of useless legs.

“I was thinking we’d catch up before going to bed. But, I don’t think I can wait. You look so yummy in your robe. I ssssuuuppppoooossssseee we could just do it here and then again later. Time is ours my love.”

I held back my disgust and fear and tried to focus. I had to do something. Anything. God help me.

In a shaking voice, I whispered, “Your right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of hid.”

“Awe, there is my little kitten. I knew you would come around. Come closer to me.” He pulled me even closer to him and sat down next to me. I could see a gun on his side, tucked in his belt.

I drew my breath in slowly. Keep it together until Rick gets here. “Yes. I’m sorry. Will you let me make it up to you?” I asked as I ran my trembling, empty hand along his cheek.

He paused and closed his eyes at my touch. “Of course, but you will need to make up for a lot kitten. You have been very naughty running away and hiding from me. You know you belong to me,” he slowly replied and opened his eyes.

“Yes. You are right. You have always been right….I am yours. I am sorry,” I lied the best I could.

He stared at me deeply. It was like he was reading me, so I smiled as best I could. “I was just scared. It was just so much emotion, so fast. I guess I couldn’t believe it was true. So I freaked.”

He kept staring, analyzing me. Finally, he replied. “Well then, my love. I guess I can understand that. But we have each other again now,” he cooed as he took some my hair into his hand and pulled my head back to lick my neck. “You better behave kitten.”

“Yes…..yes, I will,” I stammered as he released me.

“Good. Then, let the games begin. How about a real kiss?”

“Yes…a kiss. Of course. But you need to close your eyes and wait. You gave me a bit of a fright, so I need to take a moment to calm down. Close your eyes,” I asked as I reached out with my empty hand again to touch his face. He immediately closed his eyes to reveal in my touch. I traced his nose, eyes lids, forehead slowly. I was stalling for Rick. I was stalling to readjust the wine opener in my hand I was leaning on. I was stalling to find the strength to stab him. I was stalling to live.

As I traced his lips he mumbled, “You are mine Amy. You will NOT leave me again.”

“Yes, you are right. I’m sorry. I was being stupid. Just relax now,” I said as I shifted my position and stared at his face. Now is the time to strike, I thought. “Now stay still and keep your eyes closed. I’m going to kiss you and I want you to really feel it. So no peeking. Just feel it and taste it,” I lied as I caressed his face.

“Be good kitten, or you will regret it,” he threatened me with at glare.

“I will. Just close your eyes silly,” I played and caressed his thigh.

He complied and I kept caressing him to buy time.

“OK, I am going to get closer so I can kiss you. But keep your eyes closed. Oh, and I liked your gift, the wine basket. You remembered my favorite kind. That was so sweet of you,” I whispered slowly.

He smiled.

I repositioned myself as best I could and raised both hands over my head, with the cork spiral pointing down like a knife. I leaned in a little to blow on his face while whispering, “I want you to focus on how it feels, my touch. You’ve waited so long.”

“I have, but I won’t anymore. You will be mine Amy.”

“No. No more waiting. Our time is here and right now,” I said as I slammed the corkscrew into his eye socket with all the strength I could manage.

Immediately he started screaming and fumbling around. “You bitch! You will pay for that!” He ripped the opener out of his eye, and blood started pouring down his face.

I slithered away from him, but he grabbed my foot. My legs were like jello so my attempt at kicking was more like squirming. He pulled me closer, his bloody hands climbing up my body.

“Oh, you are going to be sorry Amy. Reeeeallllllly sorry.”

Just then, Rick burst into the kitchen. “No dickhead. YOU are going to be sorry,” Rick screamed as he pulled my stalker off me and immediately started punching his bloody face.

“He has a gun Rick!”

My stalker knocked Rick to the ground with a kick to the knees. Now, they were both on the floor, rolling in blood, punching, kicking. I looked around for something. Anything. Just then, the pistol hit the tile floor as the men continued to fight. I scurried back towards them on my stomach with all my might, but my head was so fuzzy that I seemed to crawl in slow motion.

Finally, I grabbed the pistol and sat up, leaning against the cupboards. I took the weapon off safe and pointed it at the fighting men. The pistol wavered in the air under my weak arms.

“Rick! Get off him! Rick!” I screamed as loud as I could. But they kept fighting, kicking, punching, rolling. I could hear sirens. Rick must have called the cops.  They were coming to save us. If the courts worked as shitty as the restraining order did, he would be out of jail in a small matter of time, I thought.

“Rick! Stop! The police are coming!” I screamed just as Rick slammed my stalker’s head onto the ground. He groaned but stopped fighting back. Rick stopped and looked up at me.

“Amy, it’s OK. The police are coming. Put down the gun. He can’t hurt you anymore,” Rick said as he crawled across the floor toward me.

I was trembling, still holding the pistol out towards the man who had ruined so much of my life. Now, he lay there bleeding on my kitchen floor. He better die, I thought. But what if he does’t?

With that thought, I didn’t hesitate. I just pointed and pulled the trigger with all the hate I could muster, which was a lot.

“No. He won’t hurt me anymore because there is no chance he will get out of jail now,” I stated as I watched blood pour out of his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

To read the first part of the story, click here.