Deep Inside Me
"You don't like me? Ok, don't. But break up with him. That's my condition."
That was what I told her before we finally end the conversation.
"If you don't, I'll take this matter into account."
Blair has been my love since childhood but she does not view me as a man. In her eyes, I am just a long-time friend. In her heart, is always someone else.
She's in an abusive relationship for 3 years, it hasn't been long, but she gradually became emotionally damaged, her mood swings worsen and she became more and more anti-social, I cannot tolerate it any longer.
Her boyfriend, Carter, keeps on being jealous for no reason, he is also alcoholic and a bit of a thug. He bosses and abuses her from time to time. And if this keep on happening, I will involve myself in their relationship.
I will have to talk to her again, ask her if she broke up or not.
We agreed on meeting at the newly built restaurant next our university. We talked about the issue over steak and wine.
"So?" I started.
"So?" She answered, not having any clue of what I was implying.
"So, have you broken up with him?" I said.
She remained silent for a while. "No.", though it seemed like she wanted to end it, she does not look like she was ready to say it.
Coming from her with a miserable tone, I wanted to go to Carter straight away and end it for her, but seemingly it would not go as I wanted. She does not want the relationship she is in, but she loves the guy, who am I to go against that.
"Blair. Just break up with him. I can't just stay put and see you in this state." I keep on saying. But it does not seem to reach her ears.
"I'm fine, really. I like him and am just fine with him." She said, saying she was satisfied with him.
I wanted to intervene but I could not go against her, I cannot go against my love. It is like going against myself.
We ended our conversation there.
After few weeks, I saw some bruises on her arms and her lips. I grinded my teeth and clenched my fist, and went straight to her.
"Where the hell is he!?" I asked. She did not reply to that, and cried instead. I took a deep breathe and shook my stress off, "Come on, talk to me. Where is he?" I asked calmly.
She did not say anything. I let her sat down on a bench and covered her crying face. "Stop crying. Your tears will hurt your lips." I said.
"I tried going and telling him but I can't put it into words. I hate him for hurting me, but I still love him." she cried.
Since she said it herself, I could not do anything else.
"Let me be a jerk, let me be a thief, let me be a murderer, just please stop receiving pain from him." There is nothing else running in my mind but this, and I let it out for her to hear.
She looked as close to death, she loved a person she hates.
Deep inside me, I have already killed the guy. I never thought of him as worthy of life but rings perfectly with death.
"Don't worry, Loui, this won't be long." She said smiling while crying as she walked passed me and did not look back.
I saw a pocket knife tucked into her shorts. It didn't occur to me what she has planned that night. But things must be done to avoid what she has in mind.
The next morning. The only thing I hear on the news is a 25 year old man named Carter Verlioza, killed from a stab.
And what's written on TV.
The killer: Loui Fuentre
