My right leg was numb, I couldn’t feel the fresh blood seeping through my jeans. I tried to push myself up, but it’s no use, my legs were both fucked. One bullet lodged into my right thigh, the other my left calf. I should’ve screamed, I should’ve cursed. I should’ve done lots of things differently.
“I warned you to stay away, I told you what would happen.” He snarled, spitting on the ground, “You rich kids are too fucking spoilt, thinking you can have it all.”
I groaned, my body aching, as I started to feel the blood, hot and pulsing through my thigh.
I didn’t swear him, didn’t curse. I wasn’t stupid, I knew he’d finish me, I knew my limit. My only hope was that the cops would find me. I managed to call them before the first bullet echoed through the air.
My hair matted to my forehead from the sweat drenching my skin. But I didn’t move my hand, I didn’t dare to move it from my shoulder. I had to keep the pressure on the wound or I was going to die.
The sound of a helicopter approached, lights flickering over head. It was so bright, that if I didn’t believe in God already I was going to now. It wasn’t long after I heard my assaulter’s shoes rushing off that I heard the car speed by.
Relief flooded me as I allowed the pain to rush through me tenfold and finally broke screaming.
Life was unfair, it was fucked up. I cursed as the pain took over me, a welcome. Our parents never told us that the monsters were real, they never warned us that there is no happy ending. Only death and heartache. I thought love could conquer all, I thought I could overcome any hurdle to be with the one man that I love. The man that stole my body and possessed my heart. But life had a different plan for me. It was evident as I laid down on the ground of an empty dock with three bullets stuck in me bleeding to death. There was no familiar person here to console me, no savior to protect me. It was just me.
I thought I had all the answers. I thought I was strong enough to walk unscathed on the path of darkness. The only person I was, the only one I ended up being, was a foolish twenty year old who thought she could play with the big boys and got fucked up her ass in the process.
He told me to walk away, he warned me that it wouldn’t end well. I knew he was a bad person. I just didn’t know how bad he really was until I was already too deep, lost to the maze of obsession. I couldn’t find my way out, no matter how hard, or fast I tried because by then I had sealed my fate. By then he had claimed me, tainted me, marked me as his knowing that he would never be mine. He was a made man, and I was his muse.