Chasing Him
"Run. Run while you can."
He ran away from me as fast as he could. I gave him fifteen seconds before going after him. He probably thought that would be enough time to escape.
He was wrong.
It took me fifteen seconds to catch up to him. How ironic is that?
His eyes widened in shock as I caught up to him and drove a knife into his side.
He fell and rolled until he stopped. He clutched his side, his face wracked with pain.
I stopped running and crouched next to him.
“So, how does it feel? Hurts, doesn’t it? It’s the same pain I felt when you broke up with me and attacked me. When you hit me. Now you know what that feels like.”
"I... I..." He tried to talk, but he’d smashed his face on the concrete when he fell, leaving his mouth full of blood. I'm sure that he bit his tongue hard, maybe almost lost it.
"Don't ever come crawling back to me. It will be worse if you ever try again."
I walked away, leaving him writhing in pain in the alley. I'm sure eventually someone will stumble upon him and call an ambulance.
Once I got back to my apartment, I collapsed on my bed and started shaking. I didn’t know why I was shaking. All I knew was that tears streamed down my face... and I felt an emptiness in my stomach.
I didn’t know why I had stabbed him. I didn’t even remember where I’d gotten the knife. I had just snapped and attacked him. I didn't remember what had happened between us before I attacked him.
All I know is that I have to get rid of the evidence. The bloody knife was in my jacket pocket from earlier.
"Fuck, I don't want to take care of that now."
I always talk to myself when I am alone. It's become habit.
Even though I said that, I got up and grabbed the knife from my pocket. I held it before putting it in the sink and running water over it. I watched some blood go down the drain before washing it with soap.
Once I had dried it with a towel, I slid it back into the knife block. I knew exactly which one it was, even if no one else ever would.
I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like hell. My hair was all tangled from running with it down, and I had mascara under my eyes from crying.
I grabbed a tissue and got it wet, and wiped my face. I looked a bit better. I brushed my hair until there were no tangles, and it was smooth in my fingers. Then I heard a knock on the door.
I looked through the peephole. It was my best friend. What was she doing here?
I opened the door. "Hey. What is it?"
"Hey. Can I come in?" She looked very serious, like something bad had happened.
"Yeah." We settled on the couch before she talked.
"Did you know that your ex is in the hospital? He isn't dead, but he's in critical condition."
I fought to keep a smile from creeping onto my face. "No, I didn't know. What happened?"
"Apparently someone stabbed him in the side, and he fell, which gave him even more injuries."
"Wow." I tried not to say much so I didn't give anything away. Hopefully he wouldn’t tell anyone it was me, or I would be arrested.
"I know, right? I wonder who would do that to him."
"Yeah, I don't know..." I never knew how hard it would be to not give myself away. I kind of want to tell her, but I don't think that she would keep it to herself.
"Well, would you want to go visit him? How do you feel about seeing him after the breakup?"
She didn’t know how bad the breakup had actually been. She only knew that we’d broken up. I didn’t think she’d want to hear the ugly details.
"I definitely do not want to see him. No way."
"Ok girl, sheesh. You got your point across." She grinned, and then we both laughed.
"Wait, how did you find out that he's in the hospital?"
"My mom told me." Whoops, I forgot that her mom was a doctor.
"Oh yeah, hehe. My brain is being weird. I totally forgot."
We talked a bit longer before she left, and I was by myself again. I felt more relaxed and relieved after her visit. I needed that.
Before I climbed into bed, I glanced at the kitchen counter where the knives were.
It took me a minute to look away.
It was going to haunt me that I’d done that.
But you know what?
It was worth it.
