If They Can’t Love Me, I’ll Love Myself – Short Story

“I’ll love myself, instead of you.”

I stood before the vanity and looked myself over in the mirror. I have to leave. I can’t take this anymore. Staying here is only destroying me with rage, reminding me of the three people who left me, who abandoned me and left me to continue on with nobody by my side. I didn’t mind two of them. It wasn’t their decision to leave, they were just vulnerable. One of them infatuated and the other wanting something new, but both brainwashed by the third… Yves. She’s the one I despise. Not even sparing a second thought about me, she took the others and left. I thought they cared about me… loved me. Yet when I was standing on the balcony, watching them running out into the forest, none of them even bothering to look back, I knew in that moment they didn’t care at all. My eyes began to water and my hands gripped the edge of the vanity. If they couldn’t love me, I was the only one who could. The apple was right there in front of me. I extended my arm, and picked it up, bringing it to my mouth. In the other hand, I grabbed the dagger next to the apple. “This is for me,” I thought. I took one last look at myself in the mirror and took a bite.

A bright light shone over my closed eyes, and I sat up slowly. I opened my eyes and looked around, confused as to where I had ended up. I was in a large warehouse on a soft, white bed with feathers scattered around the ground. I felt the weight of the dagger in my pocket, and slight comfort washed over me. The roof was completely gone, and the bright sun was illuminating everything around me. I felt a tug in my heart, and I looked to the entrance, where it was urging me to go. I stood up and walked over to the large doors of the warehouse. Looking out, I saw a vast, grassy field surrounding the area, and a town far out on the horizon. I shivered as a cold breeze washed over me, and I hugged myself. I glanced back at the bed, second guessing myself, knowing I should leave but the fear keeping me behind. I pushed myself outside, knowing I needed to go and do anything I could to help myself. I was the only one I had. I was the only one I could love.

I arrived at the town’s border, and I viewed the deserted area. I walked down the middle of the empty street, following the tug in my heart. It lead me to a tall school with a large field in front of it, and I stood under the archway, my hands brushing over the cold black metal of the fencing. I then heard running footsteps in the distance to my right. Turning my head, I saw a girl in a white tracksuit with bubblegum pink hair running down the middle of the road. She looked very familiar, and I made eye contact with her. Then it sunk in. It was Yves’ friend who was stuck with us a long time ago. Before the three people I cared about left me. I subconsciously put my hand in my pocket and pulled out the dagger. I had to do something. I want to make Yves suffer the way I did. If that means killing someone… then so be it. I began to run towards the girl, rage guiding me forward. The girl slowed to a stop when we neared each other, and I couldn’t stop myself. I stabbed her right in the chest. I didn’t hesitate. I killed her, like a wolf kills a deer. No mercy. Only for the killer’s benefit. Because if they can’t love me, I’ll love myself.

A Forgotten Victim – May Free Choice

Leaning against the wooden table of the bar, I gripped my glass of whiskey in my hand as I listened to the smooth jazz being played on the stage behind me. I slowly nodded my head to the beat of the music, not paying much attention to my surroundings. The song ended, and enthusiastic clapping followed from the crowd. The next performers came on to stage shortly and began their song. Hearing the angelic voice of the main singer, I turned around, intrigued. She stood in the front center of the stage holding the microphone stand, wearing a white, sparkly dress that went just above her knees. Her wavy brown hair was parted to the side, framing her face as she sang. She looked through the crowd, smiling at the people dancing and enjoying he music, her voice remaining steady. Looking at the bar, she made eye contact with me and winked. I smirked and finished my whiskey. The song ended, and the woman stepped off the stage. She walked over to the bar and asked the bartender for a drink. I turned back around and looked at her.

“Nice performance,” I complimented, “You have a lovely voice.”

“Thank you, sir,” she smiled, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Does your group usually perform around here?” I asked, “I don’t think I’ve heard you sing before. If I had, I would’ve remembered.”

“Nope,” she answered, “We’re doing a little bit of travelling right now.”

“Ah, interesting. Where are you from?”

“A really small town. You wouldn’t know it. Here, let me buy you a drink,” she waved the bartender over and said, “Two whiskeys. Thanks.”

“You didn’t have to,” I said in protest.

“I insist,” she stated firmly, “Anyways, what are you doing here tonight?”

“Just wanted a break, work has been exhausting.”

“Tell me about it.”

The bartender gave us our drinks and I took a sip.

“Hey,” I said, “I never got your name.”

“What’s the point of knowing it?” she asked in a bored tone, swirling her drink, “Names are just labels.”

“Fair point,” I nodded, “I guess for tonight we just don’t need to live up to our labels.”

“Exactly.” she placed her empty glass on the counter, “I’m gonna go out to get some fresh air. You can come if you want.”

“Sure,” I smiled, placed my glass down, and stood up.

She walked past me and right out the front door. I walked briskly to keep up, and stood next to her outside, taking a deep breath. I stretched my arms up to the sky, squeezing my eyes shut. Yawning, I looked over at her. The wind flowed through her hair, making it flow towards me. Her eyes were closed and she had a small smile on her face, looking peaceful and calm. Even though I had never met this woman before, I felt like we were connected. We just clicked, yet we don’t know much about one another.

“Hey, uh,” I said, “Could I maybe give you my number? So I could talk to you again some time?”

Scowling at me, she said, “We’re just strangers. You don’t know the slightest thing about me.”

“I’m sorry,” I sheepishly apologized, scratching the back of my neck, “I thought we had good chemistry and-”

“It doesn’t matter,” she looked at the ground and shook her head, “Look, just come with me somewhere.”

Puzzled, I replied, “Alright, if you want me to.”

She called for a taxi and had me sit next to her in the back seats. She didn’t say a single word and stared out the window the whole ride. As I looked outside at the house we arrived at, I realized it was my own.

“How-” I was cut off.

“Stop talking,” she paid the taxi driver and practically pulled me out of the car, “Go inside.”

Fear began to set in, and in a panic, I walked quickly to my front door and unlocked it. Pushing me inside, she closed the door behind her.

“I don’t know how you know my address,” I stumbled backwards, “but what do you want from me.”

Staring into my eyes with a fiery expression she snarled, “I don’t know, what do I want, Beast?”

I stopped dead in my tracks after hearing my old nickname.

“I have nothing to do with those thugs anymore,” my voice began to raise, “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, of course you don’t remember me!” she laughed maniacally, “I’d doubt you’d remember slaughtering my whole family. Right in front of me, as well!”

My stomach dropped as I remembered the little girl, curled up in the corner of their living room, sobbing and screaming for help. I could never forget the atrocities I committed. I live every waking moment regretting those days. Pulling out a dagger she had hidden under the skirt of her dress, she pointed it at me with a slightly shaky arm.

“I’ll do literally anything,” I begged, getting desperate, “just don’t kill me. I quit so I could get away from this.”

“Shut the hell up!” she screamed at me as she lunged forward, stabbing me directly in the gut.

A fiery pain sparked in my stomach, and my body tensed up. My hands shot to cover the wound, and I fell to the floor. I looked up at the woman in front of me, breathing heavily and shaking.

“Good riddance, asshole.”

Peek-a-Boo – March Free Choice

I yawned, leaning against the counter of the deserted, brightly lit pizza place, bored out my mind and ready to go home. A faint hum from the lights and machinery began to annoy me, having been in the store alone for around two hours. My shift was ending soon, but my boss had already gone home and would probably fire me if she found out I left early without her permission. I tapped my foot on the white tile floor, getting eager and impatient. Breaking the silence, the phone rang out, making me jump a little. I composed myself quickly and picked up, saying the line I had memorized from saying it so often.

“Katy’s Pizza, thank you for calling. How may I help you?”

A soft, honeyed voice replied, “I’d like to order a large cheese pizza. For delivery, please.”

“Of course,” I said, “What’s the address?”

“117 Velvet Lane,” she answered, “Thank you.”

“I’ll be able to get there in about ten minutes,” I said, “Thank you for your order!”

The customer hung up, and I went into the kitchen and grabbed a pizza. I placed it carefully in a box, closed up the shop and turned off the lights, and walked out the door, locking it behind me. I got to my car and got inside, ready to finish up my final delivery of the day.

 

As I pulled up to the large house, I wondered how I hadn’t noticed it before. I had surely driven past the street is was on, especially since a lot of my deliveries are covered in this area. I grabbed the pizza and exited my car, shivering as I made contact with the cold night air. I shut my car door and walked up the old-looking steps of the house. It loomed over me, taller than most of the houses on the street, almost like it was trying to intimidate me and keep me way. A burning feeling in my chest began to bubble up, almost stopping me from doing my job. Despite the anxious, overwhelming urge to turn around, I knocked on the dark, wooden door and waited for somebody to answer. I lightly tapped my toe, still nervous without an apparent reason, and the door opened. A short, brown haired girl stood in the doorway and looked at me. She was wearing a cozy looking black sweater, dark jeans and a choker with a small red rose in the middle.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hello,” I greeted, “16 dollars and 99 cents is your total.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” she said nonchalantly, smiling in a sickly sweet way, “We don’t need it.”

I looked at her, confused, not knowing what she meant.

“I’m sorry, wha-”

My sentence had been cut off short when a strong arm wrapped around my body and held a piece of cloth over my mouth.

 

Monotone chanting was the only thing I heard in my dazed state on the floor, and I failed to process any of the words. My eyes were only half open due to the bright light around me burning them. Five figures circled around me, staring directly in front of them self, each with an unreadable facial expression. My vision blurred and I lowered my head to the ground then passed out.

I awoke on a cold, hard surface, groggy and numb. As I began to open my eyes, a painful thumping in my head made me flinch. I slowly began to sit up, only to feel my hands tied tightly together. The burning feeling from earlier had come back, this time because of pure fear. I opened my eyes fully and looked around. Dozens of red, lit up candles surrounded me in a circle formation. I gradually rose to my feet, my entire body sore and weak. Only one door lead outside of the room, yet I was suspicious. That girl could come in at any moment. I was terrified, but it could possibly be my only way out. Avoiding all the candles, I carried my exhausted body to the door and slowly, I opened the door a crack.

The inside of the house looked fancy; paintings lining the walls, pedestals with intricate vases on them, small yet pretty chandeliers on the ceilings, and red velvet carpets. I listened and searched for any sign of life around, only to seem alone. Ignoring my throbbing headache and impulse to stay in the room, I opened the door wider and slipped out. I walked down the many halls, looking for an exit or window to jump out of. However, with my hands bound, I was unsure of how I would do it.

It felt like I had been wandering for hours when I had finally come across a large staircase, leading downwards. Careful to not make any noise, I gently stepped on the wood and a loud creak sounded from below me. I instantly jumped back, anxious of alerting anybody that could be nearby. I quickly viewed the area, and not spotting anybody, I slowly but surely made my way down the stairs. With only a couple quiet noises, I eventually made it down to the lower floor.

The area looked more promising than the previous one, the room being more open and less hallways in sight, but still just as fancy looking. While walking around, my headache began to get increasingly worse, making me more nervous and alert. Even the smallest of noises caused me to jump in fear. I repeatedly looked over my shoulder, trying to convince myself nobody was there. The paintings on the walls were beginning to look creepier, containing people without faces, pentagrams and what looked like cult sacrifices. The pounding in my head had become unbearable, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I stopped walking and held my head, breathing deeply and trying to calm myself to make the pain stop.

I opened my eyes and realized I had walked into a room with ten pedestals in a rectangle. Each one encased a weapon, a glass box covering them. As I made my way farther back into the room, I realized that five of the cases were empty. I heard a thump from the entrance of the room, and I turned my head towards the noise. Five people were standing next to each other, each carrying something in their hands. I made eye contact with the girl in the middle, the same one who had opened the door when I had first arrived. I immediately backed up to the back of the room and the group of them stalked towards me. They stopped and the girl held her crossbow up.

Aiming it at my head and smiling in that same honeyed smile while pulling the trigger, she said, “Peek-a-boo.”