Infliction

 

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 “Any last requests?”


A shadow looms over my trembling figure as I raise my head, revealing my tear-stained face to the officer. A single word escapes my quivering lips:


“Please.”


My voice cracks with emotion, and I’m desperate. This is my last resort. My only plea. “I - I know it looked bad, but I swear, it wasn’t my fault! You can’t. I’m innocent. It’s - it’s a mistake. I don’t want you to hurt yourself!”


He throws back his head, and a booming laugh explodes from his belly. 


“Silly girl. Hurt myself?”


Anger wells up inside of me; not with the police officer, but with myself. No matter how much I deny it, the blame always falls upon me. It’s been this way since I was born: whatever pain is inflicted on me has no effect on me, but it hurts those around me instead. Whenever I accidentally cut myself, five people around me would start bleeding. If I fell over in school, bruises would appear on my classmates’ bodies. Containing the curse was impossible; in order to protect the ones I loved, I simply had to shut myself off from the world.


He shakes his head.


“If that’s all you have to say, then I’m afraid I can’t do much else for you.”


My life flashes before my eyes. Two weeks ago. That night. That one night that caused this mess. A car. A black Porsche. It slows ominously, coming to halt beside me. After that: a jumbled disarray of memories. Fragments swirl around in my mind, and my head spins. Three men, one knife. They took my wallet, my phone, and my hope that this was all behind me. I begged them. I begged them not to. It was useless. I tried. I really did. But the cops didn’t believe me. Not with three dead bodies at my feet.


I have to try. One more time.


“Please.”


But he only shakes his head at me, and raises his gun without a word.


Bang.


A bullet streaks through the air. I know it must have hit me at some point, but I cannot feel it. Deathly silence. Nothing more. I wait, because it can’t be long unti-


A guttural scream pierces the air, slicing the night like a dagger. Blood spreads across his chest, and only the slimmest shadow of remorse crosses my face. I am no stranger to blood.


Thud.


A body falls to the floor. His face is rigid and expressionless, his skin cold to the touch. Rock hard. Empty eyes. Forever frozen in time. A bullet wound gapes, the dark red blood glinting, poisoning the concrete. A whisper is barely audible before it is carried away by the wind.


“I warned you.”


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Aimee

Wow. This was intense. Can't wait to read more.

~

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