Jeff The Killer: An Unreal Romance

I'll Never Leave

*Hey beauties! I’m really appreciating all the reads and votes I have gotten. I love ya’ll!

Ps: While reading the part when Nevada is talking to “Mark” you should listen to One – Ed Sheeran. I think it makes it even better, but it’s all up to you!

Pss: You guys should go checkout my friend’s poetry “Society Feels” by ViolentEnds! I really love it.

Bye beauties! Till next time I hope you enjoy.*

            Nevada’s P.O.V

            I should have grabbed food.

 

            Looking at the time it was 5:46 am. Ugh. My whole body was aching but I couldn’t stop walking away from that mansion.  I couldn’t believe it. Jeff and Melody…Eww. Just thinking about them made me sick, but actually seeing it happen killed me. I glanced at the nearest road sign. “Blackwood Cemetery Up Ahead”. I know it’s probably a little late, but ever since Mark died, I never got a chance to say a proper goodbye. Since I already needed to clear my mind, maybe saying goodbye would make it easier.

Jeff’s P.O.V

            Where the fuck could she have ran to?

            I have been out in the woods searching for Nevada for almost 3 hours straight. My poor Nevada, she must be freezing, or hurt, or hungry as hell. I shouldn’t have planned on keeping this from her. I don’t even want Melody. The sex with her was nothing but exactly that. Sex. I don’t want her, why can’t Nevada fucking see that. I obviously love her more than anything in this world.

Fuck!

            Great. I just stepped in deer shit. Ugh this is ridiculous I’ll never find her like this.

Nevada’s P.O.V

            I strolled up the narrow gray pathway up to Mark’s grave. I remember when he took me here with him to visit his father’s grave.

Nevada’s Memory

            “If you don’t want me here…I could leave babe…” I mumbled to Mark as we walked hand in hand to his family’s grave spot. We had been talking about people who changed our worlds and he had brought up his father. Then, out of nowhere he convinced me to visit the grave with him.

            “Stop whining! Look its right over here…” he grasped my hand tighter and heaved down on the ground next to him. I watched as he leaned onto the tombstone, tears slowly dripping on his t-shirt.

            “…You know, my mother never cared much about my dad but, I loved him. He was strong, intelligent, wise…” Mark wiped the corners of his eyes with the end of his shirt.

            “He encouraged discipline. I remember once I asked my mother if I could have a dragon tattooed on my arm right here…” he point to his forearm and continued speaking.

            “…She had agreed to it but only if my father agreed to it. That night I told him what she said and he walked up to her in the kitchen behind her back and smashed her head into dishwasher. Then he came up to me and said he was sorry that I had to see that but I won’t let my son’s mind be corrupted by her stupidity…” My body quivered as he told his story.