I’m not a stalker I just love deeply 5 (final)

Nyameko/ December 5, 2019/ Archive, Works/ 0 comments

Blood soaked and standing over the blood soaked remains of my girlfriend, well I should call her my ex now. Carrying on a relationship with a corpse would cost too much in air freshener. The icing on the cake being my longtime friend and now of late saboteur walking through my living room to the garage, where I was with the dismembered girl. He was maybe 100 steps away from seeing it all. My life was starting to read like a either a cheap horror movie or a very cheesy soap opera.  That would have been a little funny to consider if not for the impending discovery of my deeds. 75 steps away. 

Shit! He is going to see this, and he is going to overreact. There was no way he would help me, After all he had conspired with her in order to bring me down. All their actions were calculated to make me beg them to make me their toy, but I had shown her in the end. I had taken the power back I was now in control. All I had to do was take a moment to breathe and I would know what to do. He was about 50 steps now

He was getting closer. I could hear his footsteps coming closer and closer. His voice was getting louder. I couldn’t even hear what he was saying; all I could hear was the rhythm of his steps and my blood pulsing through me. My heartbeat sounded like a huge gong as if to sound off the end. Was I really going to be caught like this? Would I let them take me down? I couldn’t let him succeed. He must have planned this, and she was a poor victim to his deception. Why would he want to do this to me? Why was he being an obstacle to my happiness? There was only one way to deal with obstacles. There was nothing else I could do. Obstacles are to be destroyed, decimated and disappeared. That is what I would have to do to him. After all I am sure that is why he is here. He wants to end me, because I am the only person who knows his secret. I am the only one who can expose him for the calculating, devious ego-maniacal psycho. I couldn’t believe I had thought such an asshole was my friend.  All the advice he had given me, I thought he was trying to help me; He didn’t want me to out shine him. 

Images where streaming through my mind now of the times I had wanted to do something and he had stopped me. Saying things like: It’s not advisable, it’s not wise, you will embarrass yourself. He had been the same way when I had met her. He had tried to dissuade me from talking to her. I had tried to be a poet and he had stood in my way. Telling me I needed more practice and I still needed work. He had been in my way the whole time. An OBSTACLE!! I just hadn’t known it.  I was stupid to have not seen it. How many more people could have died if I had not seen it? I was doing the world a favour by removing the smudge on humanity.  I wish I had a gun, I could have shot him through the door and told the law I thought he was a robber. Unfortunately, I had to get my hands dirty again. But with his blood I would be able to wash my hands clean of hers. His sacrifice would be my salvation. 

He was in the next room now. I estimated about 10 steps away from the door. I had to act now, use the surprise in my favour and take him down fast or he may get the upper hand. His muscles were not just for show, I could still remember how he would pin me to the floor during our training sessions.  He was 8 steps away now. He was most definitely the better of the two of us. This of cause made the elation of beating him and pinning him that much sweeter. HE was 6 steps away now. 

5 steps now, I had to move. I had to do something. 4 steps, I moved closer to the door, picking up the cricket bat on the way. Hopefully a weapon would work in my favour.  I was being as quite as possible, as I moved to hide on the right side of the door, just barely out of sight.  He was 2 steps away now. He would open the door see her and run to her. That would be my time to act. One final step to go then…

The door clicked open and swung into the room with sharp whine, letting a long shadow into the room. I could see his silhouette in the door, coming to nearly the same height as the door frame. The door was half way open when he gasped, almost harmonizing perfectly with the door. Could this man do nothing ordinary? He is so fantastic, why would he try to destroy someone as useless as I?  I couldn’t understand. 

“Come on Xola, this man destroyed you, he turned everyone against you, he manipulated you into stalking the girl you love, He forced you to kill her and probably fucked her too, and now he is here to hammer the last nail into the coffin. He will probably call the police and act like it is entirely my fault so you can go to jail. He will probably testify against you. KILL HIM”

He ran into the room calling my name. I moved in behind him, raising the bat preparing for one powerful strike to end it all. The bat was weightless in my hand. It felt suspended in midair, as if gravity had forgotten about it for a second. “It would take one good blow and he would be knocked unconscious and then I could slit his throat and be done with it.” I hadn’t noticed I was counting down, 3,2,1 as I yanked on the bat as hard as I could, aiming for the back of his head. 

Something was wrong! My target was sliding to the right, he was turning his head!!!!

And that doctor is where I always wake up. It is always the same dream. You helped me work through the other dream I hope you can help me with this one as well.

Doctor Q was still writing, he had been writing in that pad throughout the whole retelling. Was he judging me for my evil thoughts? Would he label me a crazy person? I couldn’t possibly be sane with these dreams every night!

He put down his notepad and pen, took off his glasses and cleaned them with tissue from the box. He cleared his throat looked me straight in the face and asked: “what do you think it means?”

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About Nyameko

Nyameko Ishmael Bottoman (Nimz) is a professional paragraph wrangler. He spends his time with his head in the clouds and his boots on the neck of misbehaving metaphors. He prides himself on being a super nanny to adolescent puns.

When he is not busy being the gatekeeper to unruly onomatopoeia he keeps himself busy with writing children’s books, English education fan fiction, and noun-verb erotica.”

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