Whorror Fiction

I told her straight,

“And I was really trying hard

not to let you down first

-or at least to not be the first one

for once.”

and she cried there

and told me she was

sorry about fucking

another man

after she had told me

how shitty it was of her friends to do

something like that to their men

after she told me that

I was the only one she would

ever be like that again with

and the kettle screamed

and I poured the water

into her French press and

plunged the grounds to the bottom

and it was night out and we were fighting

she hit me hard inside the chest

with combinations and pictures of

her fucking this guy

and I stood there and

took it

and her eyes were full

of disappointment in

me but mostly in herself,

but that could not stop me

her mouth was quivering with

guilt and depression over the whole thing

the last three days she had been crying and

trying to patch it up with me

-sobbing her regret and love and

new, solid oaths

but that could not stop me

and I was full with all of the love and pain and

hidden things perverted and pure

I’d shared with her

the absolute trust I had given her and

no others

I stood in the kitchen

while she filled the air with her

precious mouth

I took a long and dull blade from a

big slit in the knife rack and I

carved an X into her torso

from outside of her shirt

and I punched her square in her

fucking teeth

and she bled there

and it was true blood

I bought her the French press

after we’d made love the first

night

and I asked her sternly

to drink the coffee

and she did

and I knew the caffeine hurt her

gums right then

she reached over the stove and grabbed the

lighter and some whiskey

she broke the bottle over my skull

and lit me on fire

and I stood there

burning

I answered the phone in flames

and she bled and I stood there on fire

and told my boss my car had been stolen

and when he asked me when it had

been stolen

I told him

two hours ago

and when he asked me why I didn’t

take the bus

I told him I had broken my foot

he hung up

and I hung up

and the flames fanned

around me

and her blood was

rain on the statue

of a once sacred

thing

destroyed either

by herself or another

but never both for her

and we stood there for

hours and I burned and she bled

and it was daylight.