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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1621564
A tale of the love between two disturbed individuals.
Joe got out of Jason's truck, tossing a cigarette to the ground as he did.  He didn't know it in that moment, but it was the last cigarette he'd ever smoke.

"You sure you wanna see her?" Jason asked.

"I'm not sure.  But I have to...I have to see if there's anything left of what we had."

"Call me when you're ready to get picked up."  And Jason sped away, knowing in his heart that something was not right.  But Joe had to do what he had to do.

Joe walked to the spot where he had always met Ally when they were together.  Each step brought back a memory.  Memories that once had filled his heart with joy, but now acted as a spear being driven repeatedly into his chest.  He stopped.  Fought back tears.  Steeled himself against the wave of pain he knew would come when he laid eyes on her.  And then he looked up.

She was standing there.  As much pain in her own eyes as there was in his.  She was still as beautiful as she had ever been.  The sun set slowly behind her, as if the sun knew that the beauty it had to offer was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to what he saw in her.  He remembered the last time he saw her.  The way her eyes had sparkled.  He would've given anything to go back to that moment.  And as his eyes ran over the pale skin of her body, he noticed something shining in the fading light of the sun.  Something in her hand.  A knife.

"Is that why you wanted me to come, Ally?  To use that?"  He gestured at the knife.

"I want to hurt you as much as you hurt me."

"You already have, Ally.  When you fucked Charlie...you hurt me in a way I didn't think it was possible to hurt."

"It isn't enough, Joe.  You have to die, so that I can move on."

They stared at each other for a long moment after that brief exchange.  And as they gazed into each other's eyes...all the wounds they had inflicted on each other were laid to bare.  Joe took a step closer, Ally raised the knife.

"Is that really how you feel, Ally?  Will watching me die really make you happy?"

"I think that it will.'

He took another step closer, Ally backed away, pushing the knife subtly towards him as she did.

"Then give me the knife.  There is no reason to get your hands dirty."

"No.  You'll turn the blade on me."

"No, Ally.  Even now, I could never hurt you like that.  I just don't want my blood to be on your hands."

Ally paused for a moment, considering.  She stared into his eyes, and whatever she saw must've moved her because she gave him the knife.

"You're certain that I have to die, for you to be happy?"

"I'm sure."

Joe raised the knife up high above his head.  He mouthed the words "I love you" and then he drove the knife down into the wrist of his left hand.  Ally's eyes went wide.

"Joe, what are you doing?"

"Making you happy.  It's all I ever wanted to do."

And with that, he slowly dragged the blade up his arm.  Slicing skin, veins and arteries until the blade struck his bicep.  When he looked up, Ally had tears in her eyes and was rushing to put her arms around him.

"I was wrong, Joe.  If you die, I'll be so sad.  Don't die, Joe.  I love you, still."

Joe smiled.  Those were the words he had come here to hear.

"I'll wait for you...like I waited once before."

And then he collapsed.  Ally was tempted to run for help.  But her instinct told her to stay by his side...that they wouldn't be able to save him.  That he needed the comfort of her embrace more then any doctors, right now.  And she held him tight...as the sun set in the distance...and the life slowly trailed away from his eyes.  She held him all night, until finally the police came in the morning.  It was the love of two disturbed individuals, ending the only way it could.
© Copyright 2009 Jonny Blade (jonnyblade at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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