Chapter 23: "Any last words?"
Our lips separated and we stared at each other in shock. After everything we went through, Blaze and I resolved everything with a kiss. I still couldn’t believe we both kissed.
Blaze slowly erupted into a fit of laughter. It wasn’t a comical or awkward laugh, it was a devilish laugh. It was af he had done something wrong when all we did was kiss. I was confused to say the least. I couldn’t figure out what he could possibly be laughing at.
“What’s so funny?” I finally asked.
He covered his mouth with his hand to contain his laughter as it continued to echo throughout the room. The look on Blaze’s face told me something wasn’t right; he was up to no good without even trying. I had no idea what I’ve gotten myself into and I don’t know if I’m ready to know what’s happening. “Don’t you get it Ryder? I’m not in love with you!” he exclaimed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I took a step back. “What did you say?”
“I said I was never in love with you.”
“So why did you say you were the other night?”
Blaze pushed both sleeves up his arms, revealing hundreds of scars -- the small, old ones, the new red slits, and the massive faded cuts that ran all the way to where his arm bent. His were ten times worse than mine and he had twice the amount I had. “The only reason I said I was in love with you was because you were catching on to how I work my around people in this dump.
“I had to stay on my toes and make sure you stuck around long enough so we could get to a point like this. Remember when I said I had a little something special for your 18th birthday? Well, happy birthday Ryder. We’re finally down to the final step in my plan.” I had completely forgotten about Blaze’s ‘surprise’ for my birthday. I felt my heart drop and color drain from my face. No wonder Blaze’s sudden affection towards me was out of complete random; he wanted to throw me off.
Everything was beginning to make sense. Blaze succeeded in what he wanted and I couldn’t hate myself more for actually falling for it. I was completely thrown off my goal of breaking Blaze so badly and now I’m standing in a vacant room with a boy who won his own game once again.
Blaze grabbed my shoulders and turned me around so now I was the one who was against the cold wall. I was in too much shock to fight back and save myself. A low chuckle left his lips which made me shudder and shut my eyes tightly. Why wasn’t I waking up? I usually would jolt out of bed at this point and realize this is all a dream I need to wake up!
I opened my eyes to see Blaze staring at me dead in the eye. “What are you doing to do to me?” I choked up. Another venom dropping laugh echoed through the room. I knew I was in for something bad after everything I had done to Blaze. He hates being overruled by someone else. I yelled at him and told him how he was unloved. It was all catching up to me now.
Why did my mother throw me in this institution? None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for her.
My shoulders were released but I stayed against the wall paralyzed with fear. My body trembled against the cold wall as I watched Blaze. Judging by how Blaze played me these past few days, it was obvious I had no idea how to beat him at something he’s so good at. He was a professional at his own game and I had no chance of taking him down.
I watched Blaze carefully drag over a familiar tray of sharp objects that I remembered from when we first met. His fingers traced over the metal tray of utensils -- blades, needles, knives, and a few safety pins. Once after the other, the sharp item was examined in the dim light that faintly flickered every few seconds. There was one large knife sticking out from the rest of the pile that I couldn’t get my eyes off. I was praying he wouldn’t pick that knife out of the pile.
But of course, luck wasn’t on my side tonight.
He grabbed the knife by the handle and tapped the tip of the blade. He snickered to himself as his index finger slid down the blade from tip to handle. Blaze turned to me with the knife in hand and a sneer look on his face. He began to step towards me and that’s when panic struck.
Blaze stood in front of me with a knife with the knife held between the two of us. My eyes shifted between the knife to Blaze to the knife to Blaze. I was stuck in a death trap that had no escape. “What are you going to do with that knife?” I asked, mentally slapping myself immediately after. What else would he do with a knife Ryder? He was going to stab me, it was obvious.
Blaze laughed at the ridiculous question and I didn’t blame him for it. “What am I going to do with this knife?” he continued to crack up. “I’m planning on cutting up a salad for you and I to share.” He sarcastically sneered. The tip of the dagger was placed in the gap between my eyebrows. I crossed my eyes to see the blade just above me. I made no movement to avoid any kind of scarring.
“Any last words?” he asked.
I looked to Blaze with fear in my eyes. “I hope you know I’ll wake up perfectly fine and you won’t be able to kill me. This isn’t real, it’s all in my head.” I said with confidence as my stomach churned.
Blaze’s expression turned from amused to anger within seconds. The tip of the blade left my face and was now back to his sides. We stood there staring at each other once again. Neither one of us made a move or said a word; we only stared each other down, silence enveloping us with every minute.
“You’re not going to get out of this institution alive,” he growled.
I shot up in my bed and frantically looked around me to see I was back in my cell. I sighed in relief and let out a light life. I’m alive. Blaze couldn’t kill me. It was all a dream. I never thought I would say it, but I’m thankful to be in Mills Mental Institution. I was glad to be back in my cell and out of that torture of a nightmare. I glanced to the clock to see the time. 2:56AM.
“And you thought you would get out that easily,”
I almost fell off my bed at the sight of Blaze. He stood in the corner of the cell with the knife in his hand. He walked over to me and held the knife over his head. I backed up in the bed with my hands in front of me as if it would stop him from coming at me with the knife. He stood over me with the knife. I gave him a pleading look, but it did nothing.
The knife came down to my chest and went through my back. I let out a painful shriek as the knife ripped out of my chest and was thrown onto the floor. I tried to stop the bleeding with my hands, but it wouldn’t work. My suit and hands became a bloody mess as I lied there in pain. I felt myself become lightheaded and losing touch with reality. I looked to my chest to see nothing but red blood oozing from my chest, covering my body and bed.
Blaze ripped the knife from my chest and stabbed the knife again, this time harder and making the hole larger. The pain was unbearable; it was as if my heart was ripped out of my chest and I was left to die. My vision grew fuzzier as Blaze continued to watch me suffer with an emotionless face. I tried to choke up one word, but it was hard to utter one word.
As I bled out and took my final breaths, I heard Blaze make one last comment.
“Game, match, win.”