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This shall be the end, friend

Previous short story:
The Ragged Doll
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Unsent Letter

In the dim room, while staring at his emotionless face, I realised that I just could't stand him anymore. I didn't want him, the man named X, in my life. I hated the fact that he was already in my life. I remembered the day, when he asked me why I acted strangely for the past few weeks. He did not fail to mention (not to me but to my friends), that I seemed to be avoiding him and refusing to talk to him. To be honest, its not that I avoided him but yes, I did try to not talking to him. At first, I did not even know why. Later did I learn, that actually, I've finally understood my own feelings towards him. How I wished that happened much sooner.

It was rather blurred, about me and him. We were close, closer that we appeared to be when we were together with other people. I could say that he, sometimes, managed to show that he really cared about me. Sometimes, he made me feel special. But we never exceeded our 'friendship' term. We acted like we cared for each other. At times, he acted like I was very important to him, and perhaps, I had also given the impression that he was to me.

But I came to realise that I actually had no feelings for him, and really, I never knew for sure if he had feelings for me. He did and said lots of things, but those things never made anything clear. I thought, if we never really had a thing, so let's act like friends. Thus, I began to stop paying any extra attention to him, and expected the same from him. It must be hard for him at first, that he asked around, trying to understand why I was being 'weird'. I admitted that I was less friendly to him, and I could only speak with him for a short while. These were because, I felt awfully awkward whenever I interacted with him, and everything that he said made me feel like not talking at all. I had no intention to hurt him, but I didn't know how to let him understand that I didn't want to pursue our close, yet unnamed and undefined relationship. I could not say that I wanted to end it, because we never had it started in the first place. I couldn't end something that haven't started, could I? I was very sorry if I've hurt him along the way. I felt bad. I just didn't want any of us to be more confused than we already were. So until we were clearer of our own feelings, I hoped to be just his friend. As he never made it known to me or anyone else that he ever wanted me more than a buddy, that would be just fine. Or so I thought.

Little did I know that he would have gone this far. Why on earth would he suddenly come to my house and actually plead my father for my hand in marriage? What's with the tears and sweet words telling my parents that he could not live without me, and that his love for me was so true and forever? They had to refuse, and that had awoken the animal in him. I began to get calls every night when I just about to doze off. Every-single-night. Sometimes I could hear, just barely, a husky voice calling my name. Some other nights, there was nothing but the sound of heavy breaths. It was him. It must be. When I was walking home alone from work, I knew he was there too, stalking me, and disappearing into the shadow when I turned to catch him in the act.

He was very disturbing, but never did I forsee that he would ever go way beyond the limit. I doubt I would ever understand why. Since the past few days, his calls suddenly stopped. He was not on the street either. Not even tonight. He seemed to have disappeared, which was good. No. It was great. I was utterly sick of him

However, as soon as I opened my eyes and saw the figure standing beside my bed, I knew I was wrong. He would never leave me alone, and this time, he meant real harm. There he was, staring down at me and panting stinky breaths. I tried to get off the bed, but he shoved me back and pushed me down. God, how I was terrified! I began to shed tears, my heart raced. I yelled at him, only to get him answered me back with his knuckles. I did not know what triggered him to start punching me, but he did and he would not stop. Blood poured out from my mouth but that did not satisfy him. I was so weak by then that I almost blacked out. ‘God, help me' I prayed. Just as he loosened his grip and stood up to undo his jeans, I caught the glimpse of the scissors I left on the bedside table earlier today. He might have missed them for they were half covered by a book.

I do not remember clearly what happened, but I remember looking at him with disgust and was still looking him in the eyes when I first stabbed him. He stunned in shock and pain and dropped to his knees. I felt a sudden rush of hatred as I brought myself forward and plunged the scissors into his chest again, and again, and again. Now his lifeless body sprawls on the floor with his opened eyes stare blankly at me as I, with hands covered in blood, sob uncontrollably. I never wanted us to end like this.

Previous short story:
The Ragged Doll
Next short story:
Unsent Letter

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