Touch Me Deadly

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Author's note: This is a quick short story/character sketch I did for @XoXo_girly03 's 22nd contest with the prompt "Touch her and you'll learn exactly what's worse than death." The characters I wrote for here are Merrigan and Layle who are apart of a new story I'm planning. They're both still new but I love them a lot so you'll probably see them a few times throughout this book. Anyway, on with the story!

(Content warning for anxiety, vomit mention, and death/gun mention)

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"Touch her and you'll learn exactly what's worse"

"Than death, than fire."

"What's worse than this; how does she go higher?"

"Touch her and she'll leap through your skin and you will cease to be."

"She touched me once and now I'm never free."

Poetry wasn't a talent that Merrigan really had, she'd only really picked it up recently when she found a book about it in the back of her boyfriend's bookshelf and read it in mounting curiosity. The idea of making art but with words was a beautiful thing and it was for that reason she wrote it now. She had to put her feelings into words and she had to find a way to make them pretty because nothing about her life before was pretty.

She didn't talk about it much with anyone, what was she supposed to say? How could she possibly tell them all that she was falling apart? She was their strongwoman, their companion who would go through hell and back, their loyal friend. She wasn't the weak link and they wouldn't catch her dying inside ever so slowly.

She hadn't even talked to her therapist about it yet. She didn't feel like talking, not when she and everything about her life had been secret until it happened.

Closing her eyes, Merrigan tried to force away the woman's voice in her head. When she got upset she often heard those last words she heard on repeat; sometimes she became so anxious she threw up. Her boyfriend saw her like that just once and she didn't want him to have to see it again so she tried to distract herself by checking her phone.

When she saw that she had a missed call from him part of her heart leapt. All things considering, she wouldn't be surprised if he'd gone into a panic when she didn't answer. Death and violence had a way of following her, she just hoped he wasn't worried because right now she wasn't in danger from anyone but herself.

"Hey!" His loving voice was pouring through the speaker then and she let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"Hi Layle, you called?" she asked briskly, wincing a little at how tight her voice sounded. Her stomach was twisting in on itself and she kept rubbing her legs together under her desk, hoping to soothe herself a little. Talking to Layle always made her happy but even he couldn't rid of her anxiety.

"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I figured you were asleep or something, is everything good?"

Merrigan smiled weakly; of course, everything wasn't okay but knowing how much he cared, hearing the loving tone of her voice was enough to make things feel just a little bit okay. She longed to be in his arms, to run her fingers through his hair and kiss him fiercely. She needed to feel close to him, needed to distract herself from everything. She wanted him near her but right now he was halfway across the country on a vacation and she was keeping his house warm for him.

He'd offered to take her with him but she wasn't ready to leave yet, she needed everything to seem familiar or she really would fall apart and there was no saying who she might meet. She was also worried if she went with him something bad would happen; bad things happened to bad people after all, didn't they? She did love him but she knew she'd never truly belong with innocent people like Layle.

"Meri?"

When Merrigan realized she'd trailed off, that she hadn't answered, she blinked and shook her head. "Oh. Everything's safe, sorry."

"Are you feeling okay? You sound pretty worn out..." he asked carefully, the slight hesitancy in his voice betraying his worries.

She nodded. "Yeah...I've just been thinking...about everything." She hesitated just a moment before she asked a question of her own, a weak whisper falling from her lips. "Um...you don't-you don't like...think less of me, do you? Af-after what I did, I mean..."

There were a few moments of tense silence before Layle spoke up again, his voice subdued but not without compassion. "Of course I don't think less of you. You did what you felt you had to and nothing else would have ensured your freedom and my safety...It's not something I'll ever forget...the sight of it- of you, I mean. I know it'll stain our hearts forever but...you're still my best friend and I love you so much I can't handle it. You're a good person, Meri."

She listened carefully, pressing her lips together. She hated everything about that. She loathed herself and the fact that her beloved was now suffering from trauma of his own because she entered his life. She felt so incredibly guilty that she felt a fresh wave of nausea passing over her but she ignored it for the time being.

He said she loved her and she knew he meant it but she didn't know if that made her feel less or more guilty.

"Okay," she finally said with a sharp breath. "I trust you."

They made small talk for a while after that and although she'd started to feel a little better she still felt ill at the thought of the woman, the imagery that was ever lingering. Once he said his goodbyes and hung up she took a single deep breath and then let it go as fresh sobs wracked her body. She was mortified but after trying to avoid it the entire time she was on the phone, she'd exhausted all her strength and now she needed to be crying.

Once she was finished she turned back to her ugly little poem and wrote the final line all alone in a new stanza to contain her darkest moment in summary.

"I put a bullet in her head and now I can't be free."


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⏰ Last updated: Sep 10, 2018 ⏰

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