BLADE (√)

●Chapter one●

For 3D, forever in my heart

 

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What I'd been given was not the simplest of a life. Good and evil didn't even make sense. In my world; life meant you're breathing whether you are rich or poor; ugly or pretty. Just alive, breathing was important here, because death...death meant I'd killed you. And that was all death would ever be in this town.

I saw them in front of me. It was a large group. Large in size not numbers. There was five of them, big arms and naughty grins. I turned up the volume in my ears. The music had to be loud enough for me not to hear their mourns and screams of pain.

The first guy was inches away from my grip and so I reached, he caught my hands, twisted and made my body do the same. I breathed out, so loud and heavy that I heard it past the music. No, this one was my battle to win. I giggled. Four confused guys all took at my sides; I leaned back into the guy who held my hands. Lifting my knees I pushed towards guy two, then three then flipped over and kicked four and five in the nuts almost doing splits. I felt my body being released and my face met the ground. I exhaled once and I went back on my feet. I neatly tucked my ear phone back in my ear. Grabbing the two small knifes neatly fitted into my boots filling the heel, I turned them around simultaneously. There was the fear I was searching for.

That's what made this job enjoyable, the fear. Without it killing was pointless. There was no thrill, no satisfaction. I hated fear, hated all negative emotion so it must die, the fear must die, along with the people who possessed it.

I plunged the knifes and took two steps back with each plunge so that the blood wouldn't splash all over me.

That, that right there was the first best feeling in the world.

Or at least that's what I told myself all these years.

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The Android phone on my desk vibrated. The sound it made was ugly, like demons at lunch. It grinded on the rough wood scratching at it as if struggling to provide the proper scratch pleasure. I smiled at the thought; scratch pleasure.

"Yes?" I spoke coldly into the phone. My voice firm and guarded. There wasn't a name or number on the call when I reached to answer it; curiosity floated above.

"Hey Amanda." The voice whispered into my ear. I recognised it immediately and allowed my heart to calm down, Shaun. Who's phone was he using?

I had been with him a few hours before. What could he possibly need now?

"nothing." He replied with a chuckle. 'Wanted to know if you made it home safe is all.' He said. That sweet soul. His southern accent kicking in strong, reminded me of the song he sang for me back when we were children, Hearts on fire. He had been teaching me a few tricks on the guitar, said that this song would be the perfect song to use the sequence of chords I'd been trying to learn off. He was right. It was perfect. Just like that night.

We were seated around the living room table in his best friend's Daniel's apartment. Their friendship bewildered me. At the time Shaun was only 12 as was I. Daniel however, was over 16 from my knowledge. That was years ago. It's been a decade now. Daniel is married, expecting a son; his first. Shaun and I have stopped visiting. We call, text when we have time and continue in the fight of living life the best we know how. The two of them though, Shaun and Daniel hardly speak anymore. To the point where you'd swear Daniel was my best friend and not his. Time changes, friends do too.