Love Is Murder

My Dear

I ran faster, he was near me I could hear his breathing, heaving furiously. He was out to get me, to take my life.

To make it his he said. My lungs breathed out heavily, I was scared, very afraid. He gets dangerous when he's angry, you could see the hatred in his eyes.

His soul leaves him and he becomes the Devil, and I flee from his presence, a wounded prey.

It wasn't like the last time, that was when he used my body as a portrait, blending and painting with a sharp knife, I could feel the edge of the knifes sharpness in my skin.

It was aching and revealing. He told me he loved me as he did so.

Maybe I am blind, I should've ran away from him, he was violent, like the deep sea he tried to drown me, when Ade said he liked me alot. He overheard us, then it came over him.

I was the subject of his anger and remorse.

But I see the way he looks at me, in awe and astonishment, I could feel his blacken soul staring too, wondering and piqued.

"You're my love." He said.

And I'll blush in tune, he made me laugh, and sometimes I'll stare into his eyes and get lost, experiencing a galaxy in them. The milky way glanced at me when he smiled, it was pure perfection. He walked in slow motions like the movies, his body was toned, and every muscle protruded arching and curving.

He was sweet, when he wanted to be, his voice was melody and rhythmic phasing into music. He was the sun, then the moon, such a powerful mess.

I could feel it when he became annoyed, his teeth would be out, white and angry. Barking and gesturing, shouting became stammering and that was when his fist did the talking.

"You're a whore!" He shouted, "You'll sleep with anyone that says you're beautiful."

And I'll shudder and tears will roll down my eyes, he was blunt like a knife, but I loved him that I understood.

After raining insults and curses on me, he'll hold me tight and whisper "You're the only one for me, please don't ever leave me."

I could feel the fright in his eyes, Everytime he'll say those sweet words. But it was getting harder, not to leave.

I met him in my lowest of moments, I was a mess metaphorically. I drank too much, I took all manner of drugs. I was hurt then, bleeding, he took pity on me; what a gentle soul he was.

When the day becomes dark and night comes. Then was when he'll hold me tight, his body on mine.

I wasn't scared of him then, I'll surrender and he'll take me. We layed in the bed and stared at the ceiling, it was pure white and extended across shallowing the top of the room.

I was on his broad arms, with my head on his chest. The music was on and the croaky voice of Juice Wrld, boomed from the Bluetooth speaker near us, its bass vibrating every inch and fibre of my body. It was a perfect moment until...

A text came on his phone, I was holding it controlling the playlist, it read;
When can I make love to you again, baby.

It was from an unknown number, but there was no hiding it's initial intent. I looked at him in that perfect moment and stared at him in utter disgust, the way he played the angel was worthy of an Oscar nomination.
He noticed, "What's the problem my dear?" He asked curiously

"You're a mad dog, that's the problem" I said as I stood up simultaneously from the bed to wage war.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"Don't play dumb with me you undomesticated dog,"

"You're barking at me, are you sure you're sane? nobody shouts at me,"

"I just saw a text sent by an unknown number, asking when you're gonna make love." I showed him the text and watched his face go from confusion to acknowledgement.

It was pure, my anger, it came over me. It wasn't a storm, it was the nuclear bomb.

"You rude prude!!!" He shouted

I walked out quickly out of the room, he desperately followed behind me shouting and screaming at the top of his bass voice. It was almost poetic, he ran up to me.

Then I saw it again the Devil in him was awaken, it burst out of him, like a vanquished imprisoned demon on the verge of war.

His arms and fist, landed on my face, leaving my cries and screams of pain filled with horror.

He kept punching me, blankly like a killer, he never stopped. My body ached badly, my knees were weak the way it shuddered and staggered to the floor.

There was a bleak opportunity but I took it, I ran as he stopped to catch his breath, I ran from and for my life out of the house. He followed behind me, I could hear his footsteps and deep heaving.

I could see him now, he carried a knife in his hands, the moonlight shone upon this metal weapon. The stars hid behind the dark clouds, I felt death lingering about, waiting, watching bleakly observing my to be extinction.

And still I ran to the bedroom, fear left me now , I was brave as a knight on a white stallion.

I realized nobody was going to save me, I had to save my self. It was where I kept it, the 0.45mm pistol I hid in terms of emergency, this was the perfect emergency to use it.

My fingers kept on shaking as I put the bullets in the revolver, two or three of them fell down, there was no time to pick them up. His footsteps wasn't faint anymore, he knew where I was now.

He walked slowly like in a horror movie. He stood there, shirtless, his arm muscles tightened, with the knife in his hands.

He walked closer to me, I hid the gun behind me, I wasn't afraid anymore. The cold metal piece of the gun had quenched and cooled my fright, and slowly I aimed it at him.

He stopped dead in tracks in fear, it was a pitiful sight to see. This great hunter just realized he was a prey.

I never hesitated as I pulled the trigger, I shot him three times and watched him slump down, to the floor lifeless, breathless. The blood from his chest flowed, in drips then full drops.

I realized what I had done, I took his head from the floor, closed his eyes with my finger then hugged him. The blood stain soaked my clothes, it was crimson red and felt warm, but I didn't care, nothing mattered at that moment.

I had killed my love, my dear.

And there I stayed till the sun came up, then the police came too, I still never knew who called them, they tried hard to separate me from my dear's corpse. I wanted to be with him, to tell him everything was going to alright, to tell him I loved him, every part of his good and demonic side.

I was pushed away, I was under arrest and needed to follow the police to the station, a police officer said. I still never understood what was going on, there was a great blank slate in my mind.

After two weeks of me rotting in jail, I was told to recant all that happened, if I wanted to get out. And I cried as I told this story. And I still missed him my love, my dear.

Whose love was like a drug, whose rage was like a storm.