Story of a Murderer

NOTES

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or are used in fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.

Do not distribute, publish, transmit, modify, display or create derivative works from or exploit the contents of this story in any way.

An original story by ScherryN (SN). All Rights Reserved 2020

DISCLAIMER

The following scenes may be inappropriate with people ages 13 and below. Some scenes may contain killings and inappropriate language. Be warned about the following content may trigger anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues.

STORY OF A MURDERER

I met this guy, his name is Harris. He's hot, good looking, 6 feet of height, and he is clean and neat, and well, he's attractive. We started dating one summer, we went island hopping together, and stayed by the beach under the moonlight to have campfire and, well we slept together.

It was okay, honestly, I'm thrilled whenever we would go out and have some time to each other. People say, the relationship we have would not last long, but who cares? As long as both of us are enjoying life together, we'll stay with each other.

Today, we went to a fancy restaurant to have our dinner date. We are celebrating our 2 years. Of course, his treat. Yes, this is life.

I get the chance to have a comfy life with him. I have my luxuries with me, anything that I desire to have, he always gave me.

I could not wish for more, right I should be contented with it.

But as time passes by, the sparks started to disappear. The feeling of excitement vanished. The thrill? The Netflix and chill? I no longer feel butterflies on my stomach. Rather, I want to be free. It seems like, I never really get contented with everything he gave to me. Or maybe, other people are right. Our relationship will not last long, we will really come to an end.

"Harris..." I started the conversation as we were walking in the park, going home.

"See that? They have a really nice coffee and cheesecakes, we should try it some time." He said, his face plastered with a genuine smile. I'm starting to doubt if this is the right time.

"You know I love you, right?" he said. I looked at him. However, he just continued walking until our feet hurts. We decided to sit on a bench.

"It's been 2 years Harris. I say that I enjoyed making memories with you." I tried again.

"Why are you saying this all of a sudden?" he asked, head on his palms. "You're not breaking up, right?" there is something from the way he uttered those words. Something that sends shivers to my well-being.

"I just, um..." I don't know what is wrong with me, why can't I just say it to him? Yes, I am breaking up. After all, I realized that I will never be contented with just one man. Call me names, but I'm not yet ready to be in a serious relationship. And it irritates me whenever he will bring up the topic of getting married.

I want to stop this shit.

"Of course, you are." He looked at me; I see something in his eyes that scared me. No way...

He pulled me to him forcing me to stand up and walk. It was almost midnight, and the cold wind doesn't help to ease my fear away. I could almost hear my heart, beating so fast, as he dragged me to our house.

After what seemed eternity, we finally reached our home. I jumped in surprise, hearing a loud bang caused by our door. He left me on our living room. I looked for the switch so that there could be light.

I sat on the couch, trying to calm myself. I don't know where Harris went to, is he going to pick my clothes? But it is starting to rain outside. Am I moving out? Is he going to kick me out of his house.

I feel so cold.

I don't know but I started to feel guilt. After everything he had done, I still choose to leave him. Am I a bad person for that? The other part of my brain says no. He deserves someone better. Like any other people would say, 'set him free.'

After couple of minutes, I decided to go upstairs—to our bedroom. There I saw Harris, he was sitting on the bed, I could almost hear his sobs.

"Harris..." I called out his name.

He turned to look at me; he looks so weak, so vulnerable at that time.

He walked towards me.

"Harris, I..."

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yes, I do. That's why I want to set you free." There was a long moment of silence, he didn't answer, and he just looked right into my eyes.

"I love you, Nicole! I fuckin' love you! Hell with that break up, I'm not letting you go." He shouted; I closed my eyes. The rain, the thunder, they never help to ease the tension; they add fuel to the fire. Harris now is fuming mad; I've never seen him like this.

"No Nicole, if I can't have you, no other man will." That was the last thing I heard before I hit the ground.

He stabbed me on my chest, and it's bleeding. I put pressure on it, the bleeding must stop. I don't want to die, no!

I see blood, my hands are covered with blood, my top is soaking with blood, while Harris... he was grinning from ear to ear, still holding the knife.

"Y-you... Murderer."

"No, I'm not." He said; still wearing that grin on his face. He squat in front of me so he could see me properly, maybe enjoying the truth that I am suffering right now.

"Jerk!" I said and grab his shirt.

"You are, Nicole. You are the murderer." I feel so numb, I don't know, is it because of the wound, or for what he said. I can't believe he can say those things, wherein fact, he is the one who stabbed me, and that stab could lead me to my death.

"You killed me long time ago." He holds my hand that's grabbing his shirt. "Did you ever know all things I've been through just to give you everything? Everything, Nicole! Everything that you ever wanted."

"You killed me Nicole. I thought you love me."

"I do!"

"No, you bitch! You ungrateful bitch! Liar!" he slapped me, not once, not twice—countless of times. He stopped, maybe because my lips were bleeding already.

"I caught you cheating. Not just one man, there are lots of them! While me? I'm working to gave you this life!"

"You don't really love me, do you? You loved the game, the game you made on your own. You love how you can puppet me, Nicole. And now, I'll be the last man you'll be able to kill. The last puppet you'll play."

He heaved a sighed before standing up. My body's so weak. I feel numb all over.

"See Nicole? I'm not the real murderer, you are."

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