Thirteen

   "You stupid whore!"

   My name is Steven Coles. I’m an average everyday twenty-one year old Joe. I work in construction, just a normal everyday builder. I have a normal amount of friends, and three guys who are my brothers. They aren’t literally my brothers of course, just my best friends since I was five or six. This is my story, not the whole thing but from a certain point in my life, when I made the greatest mistake of my life. Here we go.

   "Cheers!" We yelled simultaneously, hitting our glasses together. This is where we’ll pick up the story, at a pub in downtown Toronto. It’s Joe’s birthday, he’s twenty now. All four of us are in our twenties now, one more year and we’re going on a road trip to the U.S. Who travels without drinking?

   "Ah, nothing like a good refreshing beer after a hard day at work!" Peter let out a hearty laugh, he loves his beer. Hell, on his eighteenth birthday he drove all the way to Quebec just to drink. We weren’t eighteen yet but went along with him. It’s true what they say about Quebec, the legal drinking age is only just a suggestion.

   "Amen to that brother!" Dion roared. We all work in construction, working from early in the morning to late at time sometimes. We always work hard, we need these jobs. And to think, we don’t even have kids yet.

   I’m sure you’re wondering what this specific night has that makes it important in my story. This is the night I met Malika Black, the girl of my dreams. She is a dark person, hair so dark it almost looks black and her eyes are the same. Her skin is naturally dark, but light at the same time. It’s a light brown. She looked like a goddess that night; she looked like she wasn’t one of us. She was so beautiful that she couldn’t be real. But she was, very real at that.

   "Oh, look at that one! She’s a damned pretty little thing isn’t she?" The last one of us that you haven’t met yet said. Marshal’s his name, and he’s always on the look out for pretty girls. His standards are high so we use him to judge girls easier. If she’s good enough for him, she’s more than good enough for us.

   "Oh wow, I’d like to take her home with me." I know it’s a fairly disrespectful thing to say, but it was the first thing that came to my mind. I just wasn’t thinking clearly and it’s not just the beer. She was absolutely stunning. I could hardly get the words out.

   "Meh, boobs aren’t big enough." Peter could care less about a girl’s face or hair, the rest of the body was what he cared about. Yes, he spends a bit of time being single, but of course we all do. At least he chooses to be single.

   Dion kept his eyes on us; he didn’t care about some pretty girl walking in. He already had his eyes on a girl of his own. We laughed a little, to soothe the harsh meaning in Peter’s voice, then went back to our drinks. "You catch the game last night?" More sports talk, yay.

   My eyes didn’t leave her, I don’t think they could. She ordered a beer, same as mine. She leaned up against the bar as she waited for her drink. She was turned in my direction, almost like she was waiting for me. I think she was looking at me, or through me. To be totally honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was looking through me. Our eyes locked, she was looking at me. Sparks jumped around her eyes, and I mean I saw them. This was the beginning.

   Her drink was handed to her, but she didn’t move an inch. She just stood there, looking at me. She paid him, but never broke the connection. I just sat there and stared at her, mystified. Slowly, I was absorbing the strange energy she radiated. Most girls this pretty would have me fearfully staying away, but this was different; I had to talk to her. I downed what was left of my beer. It was time to take a risk.

   "I’ll be right back guys, gunna get another beer." I stood up and grabbed my glass. I broke the connection, but just barely. Something kept it going, but it wasn’t our eyes meeting. She knew what I was doing, I could tell by how she stayed there; as she waited for me. Dion nodded at me, "go get’em tiger!" No words were spoken but I got the message. I stumbled around the table and let my eyes find hers again. She was watching me, her eyes never left me. There was a subtle smile hidden on her face. Her lips were rosy red.

   I leaned over the bar, "Hey, can I get another beer please?" Now I had time to talk to her, this fallen angel that stood in front of me. Was she sent here for a reason, or was it just luck? The seconds were ticking away and I just stood there. I screamed at myself in my mind, "Come on Steven! You’ve got this!"

   "Hey," Her voice was soft and a little unsure, but I could hear the confidence shining through. "What’s your name?" I was beaten by the girl, a little degrading I find. I guess she decided to skip the ‘hellos’ and skip straight to the names. I choked on my own vocal chords for a moment, and then the beer hit me.

   "My name be Steven Coles, what’s yours beautiful?" Don’t ask me why I said any of that, I had been drinking I swear. She still had that hidden smile on her face; I guess she doesn’t let the real ones out all that often. I swore to myself that night that I would get her to let a smile out, if only once.

   "Malika Black. I noticed you were staring at me. What was that about?" She wasn’t being defensive at all; actually I think she was fucking with me. She was joking, just wanted to watch me squirm. Oh you got to love the cruel ones; they always have the biggest hearts.

   "Uh yeah, I was… uh…" And squirm I did, but I’ve always been a little different from most guys. "I was admiring your sheer beauty actually; it was too much work to look away. So, I thought why fight it?"

   "Oh! An honest one! And he’s sweet too!" She actually sounded surprised; I guess a lot of guys stare. I don’t blame them.

   Now let’s fast forward a few months. Malika and I started dating not long after we met. It didn’t take long for us to make it official, hell we made it official a month (on the dot) since we met. Things seemed serious, they felt serious. We moved in together, split the bills. She was working as a publisher at the time and she was hoping to make a reputation off this local writer who was still in high school. But damn that kid could write, and he already had a large fan base, made famous by the Internet. She did make a reputation off of him, and tons of money, but that was later down the road we’re following. For now, let’s try not to get ahead of ourselves.

   It was mid-April and the world was coming back to life. But always with spring comes change. And sometimes you don’t want change. This was one of those times.

   I guess we had fallen in love in those months. I’m still not sure what love is. Is it love that we do such horrible things to each other? Oh wait, we haven’t gotten quite to that point in the story yet.

   The wine glass fell, spilling wine all over Malika’s expensive dress. We weren’t at a restaurant at least; we were in our crappy little apartment. "Ugh! That’s never going to come out!" She was not happy. Maybe I should have started running at this point.

   "Sorry honey. My bad." I looked up at her from her dress and got a glimpse of the devil. She was pissed. I didn’t think to prepare myself or run, but I don’t even think I could have. It would have been like trying to protect yourself from a train speeding at you with a piece of paper.

   "Sorry? You think sorry is going to fix my dress? You worthless piece of shit!" She was ferocious and brought a new definition to the word ‘bitch’. She flipped the table onto me and while I was dealing with a table being thrown onto me she vanished. Probably right out the door, I heard the door slam. Not only did she flip a table onto me, she wasted all the wine we had and I had to clean it.

   She didn’t come home that night; I’m still clueless to where she went that night. She was still angry when she came home the night following. I ended up sleeping on the couch for the next week. She wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t even look at me. Every morning in that week had that dreaded silence and she always left early. She left before she even ate breakfast.

One of Malika’s commandments:
Thou shall not spill thy wine.

   If you think that’s bad, you should see the other commandments of hers. I just happened to have broken just about all of them, by accident nonetheless. Well, either by accident or I thought they were jokes, like the second commandment.

   So I came home from work one night, tired and sweaty from a hard days work. Malika was making dinner, and we were having tacos. Have I mentioned that I love taco night? So I took my usual shower then grabbed a beer, turned on the game and plopped myself on the couch. I didn’t realize my mistake until the T.V. was unplugged by you know who.

Commandment number 2:
Thou shall not watch the game on taco night.

   And no, I’m not joking. That was a serious rule she put down and I thought she was kidding when I first heard it too. She was dead serious. I didn’t eat that night; she put a freaking lock on the fridge! Not only that, I missed the game and had to sleep on the couch for another week of silence between us.

   I could tell you about every single commandment that she had placed on me, and I could tell you about every single time that I ended up sleeping on the couch for a week. But to be totally honest, that would take forever. It seemed like anything could set her off, turning her into a total bitch by the end of the night. I’m surprised she didn’t just leave and never come back. Or at least, that I didn’t leave. But it’s almost time for this story to come to a close; it’s almost time for me to show you what I did.

   Now we’re at about three years into our relationship. We’re engaged, but don’t want to get married just yet for some inexplicable reason. It’s been three years that I’ve put up with her bullshit. Three long fucking years. Did you ever see the news article about the ‘tamed’ deer that attacked its owner? It just goes to show that you can’t tame a wild animal. It just goes to show that Malika can’t cage me up either.

Commandment number 13:
Thou shall not be free.

   This was the only commandment that I hadn’t broken, until now.

   "You stupid whore!" She had taken it too far. I have been putting up with her shit for far too long. It’s time to even the score.

   "What did you just call me, you worthless piece of shit?" I’ve gotten so used to her calling me that that it has no worth anymore. Her words are as empty as her soul. That is, if she has one.

   "You heard me." I can hear myself. I sound bold, confident, and angry. She goes to slap me; to abuse me like she has all this time. But I catch her hand; no more. No more letting her abuse and control me. It’s time to break free.

   "Let go of me!" Only one word is going through my mind, over and over again. No. No. No. No! I open my mouth but no words come out, something else does. I’m on the front line now, and this is my battle cry.

   I recommend putting this story down now, for the horrors I am about to commit are even too horrible for me to stomach. I wish I would just walk out of the apartment now and never come back, but that’s not how things are. Everything but her fades to black, nothing else matters now.

   My fist collides with her face, sending her to the ground. There’s a flash of red, red like blood. The demons have come. In an instant I’m on top of her, holding her down. She’s wearing her stupid designer clothes, paid for with my money. I tear her shirt apart, exposing her bare naked chest. I am an animal, one that has broken free from its cage.

   One of my hands reach out and forcefully squeeze her breast, I am in control. I bet he was doing this earlier! I bring my hand up to her throat and bite it like a cat killing its prey. She screams. She screams. No one can hear her. She bleeds. No one can save her. I can taste it now, the sweet taste of revenge. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I can’t fight it; I’m possessed. I pull back and look right into her eyes, gifts from Hades. I don’t want to fight it.

   My hand slides down her chest, all the way to her pants. I grab them and with my new found strength, tear them open to grant me access. She’s hardly moving. It’s almost as if she’s trapped inside of her fear, stupid bitch. I put my foot up against her neck, freeing my other hand. Now, with the full force of both of my hand, I tear her designer pants apart, along with her underwear. Fucking whore!

   I pull it out of my pants. I know you know what I’m talking about. I insert it in her hole forcefully. I rape her. Is any of this love? If she loved me would she have cheated and treated me like crap? I don’t think so. This lying bitch is getting what’s coming to her.

   "Steven…" She breathes to me. I look her right in the eyes like the idiot I am. I don’t see the demons in her eyes anymore. All I see is the Malika I knew when we met. And that on its own stretches out and drags me in. There’s fear, so much fear and respect in her now. But I do see a demon in her eyes still, but it isn’t inside of her, it’s inside of me. Despite everything she’s done, I’m still wrong. Two wrongs don’t make a right; two demons don’t make an angel.

   I pull out. Stand up. Walk to the window. Jump out.

   I’m falling ten stories now, trying to take back all that I’ve done. But there’s no going back now, there’s no redemption for me. The cement rushes up to greet me. Pain shoots through my body, but that’s nothing compared to what I see. The last things I see before I die are flames, the flames of hell.

-Zero