Reality trip

He pushed open the door, the glass crunched beneath his feet. The floor was nothing but a mixture of blood and broken glass, the window had been broken in an attempt to escape or struggle of some form. Maybe they had tried to run away that would explain the small amount of blood over the glass but there was more blood at the back of the room. She could have been a beauty queen the apple of the worlds eye, or maybe she could have went to college and became an award winning scientest who discovered a cure for cancer. Not now though because now she was but a shadow of her former self. The body on the floor wasnt her anymore. But he see’s her face and thinks to him self “Why me? Why Me?”. A blood stained envelope lays silently on the bed, but hes mesmerised by the card someone had stuffed in her mouth………he looked closer. Ace of Spades, the card of death or some signature of sarcasm left by whoever commited this sin. An hour had passed since he first set foot into the room he had become strangley numb to the image before him. In that hour he hadnt woken up so he wasnt dreaming and nothing had moved. Feared fiction suddenly becomes reality. Shes dead………………..but it still hasnt sunk in because he still belives that this couldnt have happened to him…………..to her. A week later hes sitting at home but home feels empty, but not like shes gone only like shes out and hasnt come home yet, she isnt dead apparently but maybe thats just the way hes thinking right now trauma can do alot to people, they crack. But soon enough the pain sinks in, and when it does people begin to look for a way to escape some turn to drugs others to self harm. There are also those im not going to mention, they take the cowards way out when things get too much. For this guy the victim of some untimely mess his bong is just one minor escape he can take for just now. He packs the bowl, sparks up and inhales deeply, he holds it then blows it out followed by another hit. And as the THC reaches his brain suddenly he’s back standing in the doorway of the room looking down at her but shes not dead shes just lying there waiting for him, her long pretty arms outstretched. She beckons him to the floor beside her, he lies down and the smile on her face makes him happy, she deserves happiness. They kiss and he knows that he is loved and loves her in return but as he pulls away hes still at the door and shes dead and hes in tears. But for now nothing can be done. Vengeance is best spawned in moments of rage and at this stage of denial none have crossed him yet…..

to be continued

By downwardspiral

Birth,life....awaiting death