Kill Me
Maliah
“What do you want from me?” I voiced out killing the tension and silence I felt in the room. My heart was beating rapidly, and fear gripped me. My feelings were now complicated because I could swear that I thought the man in the hat was ugly and had scary scars on his eyes, with dark lips as a result of smoking and dry skin. Not the one who seems to have more beauty care going on than I am.
“Hmm,” I heard him saying, before standing up from his seat and walking forward to turn on another candle. He walked to his closet and started to undo his button which made my heart skip…
“What are you doing?” My voice came out fidgeted right now, the thought in my head made my heart race. I prayed silently hoping it wasn’t what I imagined it to be, hoping he just wanted to scare me. But then again, he took off his shorts, and I could see his body, well built, masculine, broad shoulders, the packs.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.
While my eyes found this all pleasing and gratifying, I noticed a scar, the one I had imagined he would have on his face. I noticed a scar on his back and one on his chest. He looked over his shoulders noticing I was staring, but only smirked. He opened his closet and brought out a white shirt causing me to sigh in relief. I thought that was all to it until he drew out a gun from his left pocket and pointed it in my direction.
“No,” I gasped in fear, watching him take a step closer to me as he bent to my height, now placing the gun on my forehead while staring at me. My lips quivered, while my body shook in fear. With tears rolling down my eyes, I stare down at my feet, closing my eyes, waiting for it to happen, as he corks the gun.
“Not scared of death,” he mumbled, pulling the gun away, and I finally opened my eyes looking at him, and the gun in his hands.
“Why didn’t you shoot me?” I asked instead and pulled the gun in his hand and dragged it up to my forehead, muttering for him to go on. But as a few seconds passed, and I didn’t hear the gun cork, I opened my eyes, to see him looking at me weirdly, more like shocked by what I did.
“Why did you stop, please just get on with it already, kill me,” in tears, I begged for my own death- insane right? But indeed I wanted it. I was scared but what worse would happen if I died, and At the thought of that, the image of Junior flashed through my head when I heard a gunshot sound.
“No,” I jumped up in fright with my eyes shut tightly when I heard small laughs from beside me. I slowly opened my eyes and then I saw him, laughing, as he sat on the seat.
“What was funny? Why aren’t I dead?” This was the question I was supposed to be invested in, but instead, I couldn’t wrap my head around this image in front of me.
“The laugh lines, his creased forehead, how perfect his teeth were, the way his eyes became smaller, and, how beautiful his smile was,” I couldn’t wrap my head around it, as I stood there noticing all those features, and asking to myself was he really that scary after all.
“What?” He asked, staring at me, while he walked over and wore his white shirt giving me a cold glare.
“You didn’t shoot me?”
“What a performer?” He said staring at me in a way that couldn’t be justified.
“Why?” I asked, having no idea what he meant by that.
“Hey,”
“Answer me!” I screamed and touched his hand when he turned around and grabbed me in the neck pointing the gun at me now. Our breathing heaved, as I felt his grip on my neck tighten, making it difficult for me to breathe.
“I can’t breathe,” I managed to say, and it worsened the whole situation, his grip got tightened, and It felt as if I was using the last breath in me to stay alive while tapping his hands and the air at the same time.
“Please,” I begged, and almost immediately he let go roughly, pushing me away. I landed on the floor, and it made a land thud, causing him to rush at me frightened which got me all confused…
“Are you okay?” He asked calmly, his voice soothing like the first time he had called my name, making me question myself. What’s going on? How come he hurt me and looked freaked out from my falling on the ground?
“I’m fine,”
He helped me up and helped me to the bed. He looked at me like I was this fragile egg about to break when our skin brushed against each other and I pulled away immediately.
“I’ll meet you at dinner,” he said simply…
“What? Dinner? What do you want with me? Are you trying to spite my father for paying your money? Why are you keeping me here?”
I asked but like always he said nothing. It was just me and this silence. I sat there, and watched him use the telephone in the room, which I’m only noticing he had now. He spoke some inaudible words to it that lasted barely a minute before ending it. In a few seconds, the doors to his room opened and the older lady walked in.
She bowed her head at him, before turning to face me. She gave me a small smile and helped me up, as she urged me to come with her.
“Where are we going?” I asked her, stretching my head to look at the man who didn’t even turn to stare at me… The strange man who just got my head confused…
“We’re going to get you fed up,” she smiled at me, as she directed the way, while two men in black followed from behind…
“Great?” Isn’t every mystery here scary?” I thought to myself walking along…