"I told you, get away from me!" I scream at the top of my lungs, holding the huge kitchen knife up in his face.
He stares at me like I've gone crazy. Maybe I have. My eyes widen as I give him a warning. Get the fuck out.
He doesn't budge. "You're really going to do this with me? Really? While I have a knife in my hand?"
The sun flickers in my eyes through my blinds.
"Yes." He says in a cold, deep voice. I scoff, and start to laugh. I start to laugh so loud it fills the house. It echoes.
"Jesse, I'm fucking telling you. Get the fuck out!" I scream again, way louder this time. His eyes widen.
I walk towards him, pointing the knife at him. I sniffle as I start to sweat.
The tip of the knife hits his chest and pokes him, but he doesn't seem fazed.
"This is my last time telling you. Get. Out," I say firmly. "I will go to greater lengths, Jesse. I am not afraid."
His eyes widen like he's genuinely afraid, but quickly gets replaced by hatred. He keeps blinking due to the sun, and a fresh grassy smell has long filled the house.
I press into his skin harder, making him wince. The tip is almost through his skin. "Are you going to leave?" I ask him.
"No. I will not move." An answer escapes his lips. I nod, smiling like an insane person.
"Oh, okay, that's fine." I stick the tip of the knife all the way in, piercing his body. Loads of blood drip down his chest, and he gasps for air.
The knife is still in as I stare him down.
"You will not disobey and downright disrespect me like that in my home. I have asked you multiple times to leave. Get the fuck out, Jesse."
He finally listens, and I rip the knife out. He holds the wound, running out of the house and screaming.
I hold it together until I know he left. Until I know he's gone.
I breakdown, falling to the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. I can't believe I just fucking did that.
"What the fuck..." I whisper to myself, hyperventilating and on the verge of having a panic attack.
I put my palms up to my eyes, wiping the tears. I look at the bloody knife that was thrown on the floor. I can't believe this. There's no way.
I fail to believe that I actually stabbed him. I couldn't have. No way. I didn't. Maybe I was just hallucinating.
Tears pour out of my eyes more and more as I hiccup
and gasp for air.
Technically, it was self defense. He broke into my home. Sort of...
— FLASHBACK —
I pour the cereal into the bowl, the milk following after. I can clearly hear footsteps approaching my door.
I walk out of the kitchen, trying to open the door.
YOU ARE READING
𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 || 𝟏𝟔 +
Romance"You're too precious, my love...why?" He said as he looked up at me with watering eyes. "Stop crying." I gritted through my teeth. I hate to see people cry. I hate to cry. It shows only weakness and vulnerability. To my surprise, he started kissin...
