Up in Smoke, Out in Storm

I am talking and I can feel him watching me. He was always watching me. My skin crawled, and I felt a terrified silence well up in me. The guy I was talking to suddenly gave a shiver, and I know what is going to happen before I even feel the hand land on my shoulder.

"Beat it loner.” I make a weak attempt to stand up, and escape him. His hand presses me back down again.“Not you.” And it is the other guy who flees the scene, I could feel his relief with a flash of envy. The hands on my shoulder stay firm until we hear the front door slam and lock.

Without a doubt I know the hands can feel my trembling. He finally releases my shoulders. There is a cold left when the hands are removed, yet there is no relief to be found by the absence. He sat down across from me. I stare at cold gray eyes. A chill wells up in me.

He pulls his chair close to me, so close that our knees touch. I feel a light stack of papers being shoved into my limp hands. I obediently take them. Everything is crucial right now. I have to stay still, as clam as possible. I feel his fingertips brush the tops of my knuckles. While my body relaxes at the gentleness of the touch, my mind is far from fooled. I know his false sense of comfort, and more so I know how deadly it is to fall for it.

“You know I’ve always loved you right?” He says to me. Dangerous. Dangerous. Dangerous. The warning signs erupt in my mind. I feel myself numbly nod. “Look at the files.” I tremble, my head shaking ‘no’, and he grabs my cheek. Those beautifully cruel eyes, and I feel his thumb on my face. He strokes me gently. “I said, look at the files.” He pulls my chin down. I have to force myself to look.

There are three women pasted on this paper. It’s a file, and each woman has a paragraph of information documented on her. Under their description was numbers. The numbers are codes, and I used to know them well. I can’t stop the word “Kill” from being highlighted in my mind.

I began to full on shake. Each girl is different, blond, brunette, or black haired, with blue eyes, green eyes, or brown eyes, but it didn’t matter because all I could see was corpses. Corpses, and my own blood stained hands.

I to the next page. My breath stops.

My mothers picture assaults me.

His words are carefully placed, and exactly on cue.

“You love me don’t you?” My chin is drawn upwards and I am looking directly into his horrible eyes. His eyes promised horrors if I rebelled. Danger. Danger. Danger.

“Yes…” I whispered, I am paralyzed with fear.

“Then you must kill them.”