The Enemy

Chapter Twenty-Five

~Matteo~

Nothing.

No pain.

No heat.

No pearly white gates.

Or a stair case to heaven.

Not that I'm even thinking I would get in, it's just nothing. Pitch black nothingness.

And ice cold

I blink once and feel nothing, I try to inhale a breath of air and it's like I don't even need it.

I reach out in front of me and feel nothing.

Is this what death feels like?

I thought it would be more, I don't know, profound? Quiet? Fulfilling? Eventful? I don't know maybe even loud?

But it's just nothing

I'm not sure if my eyes are even open

And then I feel it. A tingling sensation where my heart should be. An aching feeling in my gut. I can see her. Walking towards me head bowed, tears falling one after the other in an endless stream before she's on her knees in front of me. Saying words I can not hear. Green eyes wide with a mixture of emotions. Sadness, anger, longing, guilt. Guilt is appropriate. She did it. She actually did it. I guess some part of me was hoping she wouldn't. That she couldn't. I don't think I would have been able to kill her. I really wanted too. But I wanted to know why she chose to hurt me the way she did. I've never felt that kind of pain and I wanted her to answer me. And all she gave me was her fucking tears and a knife in the fucking heart. I guess that was appropriate too. I loved her. I truly loved her. I was prepared to give her the fucking world and she stabbed me the fucking heart.

Then I felt it.

Tears.

I've never cried in my fucking life. Not even when my birth mother gave birth to me. My father has told me the story almost a hundred times. They all thought I was still-born. I wouldn't cry. They slapped me on my ass about a dozen times before they finally realized I was alive the whole time. I just wasn't crying. I didn't cry as a baby. I didn't cry when I fell out the tree and broke my arm when I was six. I didn't even cry when I got ran over by that car when I was eleven and broke my leg and my other damn arm.

Dead.

With tears in my eyes.

All because of a bitch.

It's always because of a bitch.

My only regret is falling for the enemy and not pulling the trigger when I had the chance.

"Matteo, I'm so sorry." I don't bother to look around for the voice. I'm surrounded by darkness and from what I've heard about hell, it's nothing but an endless loop of your worst nightmare. I guess mine has started. "She didn't know. If she knew she would have told me. I promise if you just wake up I'll tell you everything. I've lost her. She's probably dead by now. I have no one now and I have nothing to lose. Can you please wake up you're all I have left of her."