I didn’t
notice my murderer until the edge of the knife
disappeared between my ribs and the image my eyes
registered was broken by light flashes of pain. I
promised myself that it wouldn’t be long, that it would
be over in a few seconds. But I couldn’t hold myself to
that promise. I knew that at the moment I sensed her
presence, behind me, in the darkness, and her
excruciating hate ran through my body, right into my
soul.
‘No, please,’ I begged with trembling voice.
I knew she would come. She had announced her coming
arrival a long time ago. Words written in blood, on the
white walls of my room, on the mirrors in the bath
house. The same words, over and over; messages no one
could see, except me. She was coming and I couldn’t
escape her.
She jagged the knife out from my side and I screamed in
pain. I sunk to my knees when the last strength in my
limbs was lost in no more than a second. I felt the
blood floating from the wound, leaving a trail, dripping
along my side, over my hip, on to the tiled floor. I
retched in pain and fear.
It is okay to die,
she whispered in my head.
But I was petrified.
‘I don’t want to die,’ I whispered. Drops of sweat
started to appear on my forehead.
Don’t be afraid,
she said with that serene voice. She sounded unreal, not
of this world. The pain doesn’t last. After this you won’t remember
a thing.
‘Really?’ I asked with trembling voice.
No,
she said and she smiled. You will remember every second. Every sting of pain,
every moan, every plea. Everything will repeat itself.
Over and over.
I shivered. I noticed there were tears burning in the
corner of my eyes and I started crying. Constrained I
fell to the ground while the life floated from me in a
warm stream of blood that formed a pool on the white
tiled floor.
‘Please,’ I begged. ‘I’m sorry.’
When she spoke again she was very close. She had moved
in an unnoticeable moment and she startled me when her
voice was suddenly so close. My murderer kneeled beside
me. I couldn’t see her very well, but I knew she was
there. I felt her presence entering deep inside me.
She bended over, I could feel her long hair caressing my
bare chest, like a cutting wind. I smelled her scent;
sweet and seducing. Dazing, as a misty, sleep inducing
drug.
Regret can’t save you. Regret was history at the moment
you signed your death sentence.
‘I don’t want to die,’ I moaned and it was true. I was
afraid to die. I was so unbelievably scared that I
barely was able to breath. I heard the sound of my own
breathe, gasping. My heartbeat slowing down, throbbing
in my head. The tarry stream of my blood, murmuring in
my ear. My body was shaking and shivering and I was
sweating really bad. I felt death nearing and there was
nothing left to do but to beg. Beg for forgiveness, beg
her to have mercy. But I already knew she wouldn’t spare
me.
‘My wife… She’s pregnant. She needs me.’
Your wife will be happy,
she whispered. Your child will be happy.
‘I want to see my baby. I want to hold him, just once
before -’
I wanted to hold my baby. Just once.
I screamed in pain when she laid her hand on my chest.
The palm was cold as ice and it felt as I fit froze my
heartbeat. Somewhere she still had the knife, but I
realised now that the knife was no more than a material
weapon. She possessed many ways to kill me. So many
ways…
Will you beg?
my murderer asked. Will you beg, like me? Will you scream so loud your
voice breaks and your longues crack? So loud you will
become deaf and your body leaves you numb? Until your
mind is trapped in a carcass that will slowly fade,
until no one will remember who you were, that you ever
lived?
I shook my head to ignore her words. But she didn’t
speak with her voice. Her thoughts penetrated my head
and were so loud.
I called this upon myself. It had been so long ago that
I forgot, but she still remembered. And when my final
memory disappeared, she came. My murderer. A ghost. The
angel of death that I created myself, four years ago.
You killed me,
she said. It wasn’t a reproach or a accusation. It was
nothing more but a sentence that made me gasp for air.
‘Yes,’ I moaned. ‘I’m sorry. I was drunk… I didn’t want
to…’
The pressure on my chest disappeared. She moved her hand
to my side, to the deep wound that numbed that part of
my body completely.
I will help you remember,
she said and her voice became deeper. I will remember you every day what you did to me.
Murderer.
At that moment I screamed. An excruciating pain entered
my body like a stream of lava. I squirm to escape the
burning pain, but it felt as if it rushed through my
veins until my entire body constrained and I screamed. I
screamed until my longues burned and my voice broke. I
screamed until I couldn’t hear anything else but my own,
shattering pleas for mercy.
Pleas she didn’t answer.
‘She’s
coming,’ I whispered. ‘She’s coming!’
They didn’t understand. They just looked at me and then
turned their heads. But I saw the looks. Looks that said
I was insane. They didn’t believe me. But I knew better.
It wouldn’t be long until she would appear again. My
murderer.
‘She’s coming,’ I said again to the man in the white
coat that stood closest to me. I jerked on the straps
that held my wrists and ankles to the bed. The leather
had bruised my skin and it hurt, but I didn’t give in. I
had to escape. This was my last chance.
‘Try to stay calm,’ my doctor said to me like he always
did, with that, calm but fake tone.
‘She’s coming! She’s coming to kill me! Just like I
killed her.’
‘Calm down, Jimmy.’ My doctor turned to the others and
nodded.
‘No!’ I shook my head wildly. I didn’t see even see the
man who walked towards me, I only saw the needle,
lighting in the dim light. ‘No. Please. I don’t want to…
She’s coming!’
I started tugging again. I had to free myself, or I
would be lost. Like a madman I jerked on the straps,
screaming, begging. I had to escape.
I barely felt the Sting of the needle, but the fluid
they injected was like liquid fire. It spread through me
with rapid speed, just like she spread her memories
through my body.
My doctor moved to the door. He gestured at the two
others and they left me.
‘Help me!’ I screamed as loud as I could. Somebody had
to hear me, somebody had to come and rescue me. ‘Please,
help me!’
But they never came back. I was gasping for air and
sweat was floating across my cheeks and neck. My eyes
crossed the room constantly while my vision become
blurry. I already felt that she was coming; a descending
darkness that dimmed the light.
Desperately I tried to keep my eyes from the white wall
on my left. But I was drawn to it. No matter how hard I
tried, even when I closed my eyes I could see the bloody
writing.
Murderer.