Short Story's

#6

Suicide Love

The love of my life, that breaks me a million times. Was it really meant for me or was it all just a teenage dream? If it was really the love of my life, why would he make me cry? Would play with me just for fun and dont stop when I tried to run. Would hold my hand like its a secret or kiss me just so somebody can see it.

It was the first summer after our broke up. It somehow felt wrong to enter this world again. To open up the door of this house. Our house, that we left 12 months before and never re-entered. We never thought that it would come this way and I didnt knew that I will come back alone. Alone because you left, forever untouchable for me.

I made it to the couch in the living room before I broke down again. I hugged a pillow, just like my therapist told me to do, imagine I would hug you. But it never really helped. Why? Because every time I try, the image of you taking your last breath while laying in my arms enters my head. Even if I felt mentally abused by you I loved you and thats why I never left. I had so many chances but I stayed. And for you all it needed was a death sister and you thought you need to fight alone against the hole world. Your biggest mistake back then was to not look behind you. Behind you were I stand and hold back all the monsters who tried to break you even more. I loved you but you never really saw it. I fight for you till the blood turns my sweater dark red and the sweat burned in the wounds. I fight for you in my darkest times with my last hope to help you stand up, but all for nothing.

Now Im here, crying again lonely in a place where I never felt comfortable. A place where I was a prisoner of your power. A place where I dont belong to. I never called it my home and I will never. I could because the beast left with you, but there are flying to many memories through the air. It starts with a beautiful kiss on our balcony and ended with the rape in the hall way. From the outside our life looked perfectly fine but after making one step inside it was the whole opposite.

I look through my tears, down at my scars. I always hated them, but now I love them. They are the last thing I have from you. And I would like to make some more. I quickly discard this thought. No not this time. This time I need to be strong, I swore it to myself and I wont break it.