...And She Was Gone

She smiled and said "I will always love you." Then the gun went off. A friend asked me once what a bullet going through someone's head looked like, and I still couldn't tell you. I remember it, yes I do, but that whole day is a blur now, one long, indivisible smear, and I still can't figure out how to cut it up, maybe get it out of my mind. It seems like the void itself now, the very space in which I think, sitting behind everything, everyday. When I saw her back at the apartment after her...deed...I knew something was coming that I didn't expect. I should have expected what came. When she looked at me, gun in her hand, said those words, left.
I will always love you.
         It happened as it happened by twisted fate, though it was plenty premeditated. She woke up crying that morning. I tried to wake her early, pull her out of that darkness and back into reality, into the dawn. She wouldn't budge. Just whimpered softly for two hours and woke up. Most people seem to not remember their dreams, at least I don't. Her memory with them was clear as day. When she woke, abruptly halting her sob, a look of confusion gave way to determination.
         "Today's the day. Let's get him today."
         I had wondered for weeks prior to that morning whether or not she was serious about doing it. She was. It had all been meticulously planned out, but it didn't seem like she was being careful, ordering the equipment, the clothes, the ammo, all online. It was like she was getting all this stuff together just for effect, she could just as easily have walked in his house and slit his throat. I thought it ran deeper, though, as she seemed driven by the objective, ready to go almost as soon as she jumped out of bed. She wanted to get this done, over with, but I think most of all, she wanted revenge. She sure acted like it. As she prepared the gear she mumbled in frustration under her breath.
         "Motherfucker thinks he can... I'll get ... we'll fuckin' see."
         I was kind of lost over this, and kind of wished I had never even brought the idea on in the first place. I thought her arguments were right, that her will was just, but I was starting to believe she was crazy. The things that man did to her can drive you crazy. The torment he dealt, his manipulation of her life, the ideas and doubts he left in her head, I mean, I'm sure they had some toll on her. Nobody takes three years of that and comes out seeking peace, at least no one I know. Then the restraining order, court, the verdict, dear God.
I remembered her telling me the stories, his strikes, confining her to her house, not letting her see friends and family. This man, if you could call him that, deserved some sort of karma. Still, I was unsure if she was taking it too far or not, but I did want to jump in the middle. She seemed like she'd take down a brick wall to get to him, as she'd already gone through the court system. The account she gave of the abuse was long and difficult, but gave her nothing.
"Acquitted... fuckin' let go... tell me... fuck you."
         Maybe part of her wanted vengeance, maybe part of her wanted to protect others from ever being treated that way by him. Hell, maybe she just wanted to pluck him out of existence like a hair on her cheek. Regardless, she was gun-ho. Part of me didn't think she'd go through with it, didn't think she'd leave the apartment. But she did. He was the most assertive girl I'd ever been with, and I loved that about her. I'm not sure if she was always like that, or this made her do it, but I guess that's why this all happened like it did anyways.
         "Alright, have everything packed when I'm back...can I ask you something?"
         There was a silence for an instant, and then "Yea, what?"
         She walked up to me, and for an instant, I saw fear in her eyes. "You'll always love me, right?" I grasped what she meant. Could I live with this, as an accessory? I wasn't sure, but I had to make a statement.
         "Yes, dear. Always."
         With that she was gone. It would be an in-and-out job, just to walk in, say a few words, blow his head off with the sawed off 12 gauge she was bringing, maybe the .38 special on her heel if discretion was required. After she'd come back here, and we'd promptly leave for a friend's house on the Canadian border, jump it in the woods, start a new life. Maybe we could get a boat from Nova Scotia to Ireland, escape to Europe, stay in hostels, who knew. It almost seemed like an open opportunity, freedom, the wind to our backs. At least it did up until when she left.
         It was a terrible wait. I was shaking for most of it, partially hoping she would decide to turn around, come back with a level head. I expected her to come back drenched in blood with a sick smile on her face. I suppose part of me hated her for this, and I knew I'd never look at her the same. Why did she need vengeance? Why couldn't we just the cut ties, let it go? I'm sure it's easier said than done, but it must be easier than this.
         I was caught in the middle of a thought when I heard the door rattle from my chair in our living room where the front door leads in. I looked up with a startle. She seemed to walk in quickly, as if running from someone, but she slowed down as she closed the door, a blank and pale expression on her face. She seemed like something vital had been sucked out of her, like she had just met the devil, had just been lectured by God. What had happened I did not know, and by the look on her face, I would not want to ask by any means. She said three words, and I jumped up to get ready.
         "Let's go now."
         Jumping up, I ran to the bedroom and grabbed our bags, my coat, a backpack with the essentials. When I walked back out, I was stopped short in my tracks. She was on the balcony, with the .38 in her hand.
         "Bella..."
         Her hair waved in the wind as she turned, and three birds flew up into the air behind her. For a moment, she was a Goddess. All of her troubles ran away from her face; I thought everything was going to be alright, just for a moment. Then tears ran to her eyes. I knew now how dark her plight was. He had taken everything from her, and she could do nothing. No justice was sought for her, no ties made even. She had made things even, but now he had taken her true innocence. Now she was guilty. I just wish she hadn't let him take everything. If only she could wipe her mind and start new. If only I could get this all out of my head. If only.
         "I will always love you..."
         And she was gone.