HIM .. Joe Goldberg

BONNIE

Charlie slams his elbow into your stomach and the wind is knocked out of you. You struggle to breathe.

"No!" I scream in horror as I run into the kitchen and grab the first thing I can. A beer bottle left by Charlie himself, half filled with a local brew. Charlie climbs on top of you and begins punching your face repeated, blood pouring from your nose and down your lips. With one hand he holds the gun to your forehead and with the other begins choking the life out of you. You're wheezing, trying to pry him off, though you freeze for a moment when you notice me over his shoulder, bottle raised far beyond my head.

I slam it over Charlie and he immediately falls over, momentarily dazed. The gun leaves his hand. You're able to push him off you just as he regains consciousness and grab the weapon that's now beside your hip. However, Charlie reacts fast. There's a struggle for the gun, bodies roll across the floor fighting to be on top. 

You can't hear it with all the blood in your ears, adrenaline snipping your awareness so you can only focus on Charlie and the war between you, but I do. Hannah's loud sobs and strained shouts, desperate for a hero. I'm still holding the neck of the broken bottle and the jagged ends are sharp and I tell you I'm not a killer and I mean that with everything I am but sometimes to kill is necessary. I go into the bedroom and straddle Hannah by the waist and she's screaming and crying and scratching me, trying to get me off, but there's no use, Joe. She started all this, started the misery, started the horror and the violence and the fact that she almost got you killed means that she has to die now. I'm not a killer, I'm not a monster. I'm a protector.

"BRIT NO, PLEASE NO BRIT PLEASE!"

She's still screaming even after her throat is slashed, though it doesn't last very long. A strange gurgle emits from her lips as she chokes on her own blood. I don't watch her die even through I knew it would likely arrive within the minute. I drop the broken bottle behind the frame of the bed and jump off of Hannah. One hand weakly reaches for me, the other on her open neck.

Just as I grip the doorknob there's a gunshot. I can't hear you two struggling anymore, just the dogs that live in the apartments barking up a storm. Every bit of strength is slipped out of me as I fall to my knees. Charlie killed you. Charlie wanted you dead, and Charlie always gets what he wants.

The door swings open but I can't look up, I only see legs clad in bloody jeans. I hang my head and cover my face and sob and sob until I realize Charlie was wearing sweatpants earlier, not jeans. I look up and see you gazing at Hannah, mouth open in shock. You're still bleeding all over, nose crooked and broken but Hunny, you still look good as ever. You crouch down and hold my shoulders and mutter, "I get it now, Brit. I understand everything."

Then you kiss my forehead, leaving a bloody print of your lips.