Demented Torture

Kill Bill (volume two)

*one month later*
I was so sick and tired of Bill. I think there's still some semblance of love left for him, but I think it's mostly gone.

Last night he hurt me again. I just got fed up, and I regretted my actions immediately. I called Mark. I told him what happened.

*last night*
"Jack! Is dinner ready yet?" Bill screamed at me. He was lounging in the living room, on the couch. I was in the kitchen, just starting on dinner; my recording had taken longer than I expected. "Why don't you come make it yourself, for once, you big man- child," I said under my breath. I hadn't realized that Bill was standing behind me until I felt a ringing in my ear. "Excuse me?" he growled, rage apparent in his features. Lying on the ground, I realized how done I was with his bullshit.

"You're excused," I said defiantly, looking up at him from the floor. He aimed a kick at my shin, but thankfully missed. I knew what would ensue if I just stayed there, so I grabbed the side of the counter and pulled myself up.

He landed a punch square on my jaw, causing stars to appear in front of my face. I stumbled backwards, losing my balance a little bit. I turned and hightailed it around the small island in the middle of the kitchen. He launched himself over it (I didn't know he could do that. I guess he's really angry). He pushed me hard; I was now on the ground once again. He leaned over me, pinning me down.

Ripping off our clothes, he defiled me again. This was the third time he's done it to me, without my consent.

As he's finishing in me, I'm able to reach a knife I had been using from the island. I brought it down quickly, hoping I'll hit him somewhere; I couldn't see with the tears blurring my vision.

I heard him cry out in pain; he hit me upside my head a few times in retaliation. He tried pulling out, tried to get away from me, but I stabbed ferociously many times.

I don't remember much else, tears blurring my vision, judgement and memory clouded by the blurred lines that I couldn't read between.

I stabbed Bill's lifeless body more times than necessary, straddling him and pushing the knife deeper and deeper into his chest, his torso, his stomach, groin, head, anywhere and everywhere I could.
~~~~~~~~
I got off of Bill slowly, almost robotically. Upon standing, I looked down at what I had done. I was crying before, but my tears had stopped flowing sometime while I was killing my boyfriend.

My boyfriend. Bill. I loved him, quirks, beatings, rapes and all, I loved him.

I sobbed heavily, screaming mentally at myself. "I killed someone. I murdered my boyfriend," I thought.

I dropped the knife, noticing for the first time how much blood there was. It was all over me, the knife, the kitchen, and Bill. Oh, God, Bill. What have I done?
~~~~~~~~
I knew I had to tell someone. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know who to call. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialing the first person that came to my hazy mind: Mark.
~~~~~~~~
*present day*
Mark came over, understanding some of my babbling, hiccuping, crying enough to make out the gist of what happened. He arrived almost immediately, bringing the police with him.

They found me, clutching my phone in one hand, head resting on Bill's still chest. Blood covered more than I seen at my first glance. I was crying, and I had thrown up somewhere in the kitchen. I don't remember any of this.
~~~~~~
I'm now sitting outside of a courthouse, Mark's arm around my shaking shoulders. I'm not crying because I am sad (though I am, I did, after all, kill my boyfriend), I shed tears of joy.

The jury, after thoroughly looking over my past history and the case files, found me not guilty. I was cleared of all charges.

It didn't help me any; I felt guilty as sin. Sure he hurt me in more ways than one, both physically and mentally, but did I have to kill the guy?

A/N - sorry for the feels ;-;
Next chap will be epilogue *winks*