Poison

She looked the same, just the same as she had done when they met, but the fun girl he had fallen in love with was long gone, and the beautiful body standing in front of him was nothing more than an empty shell. The drugs were like a poison, filling her, killing her, and infecting him every time they kissed.



A shortstory I wrote last year for my halfterms. I was inspired by Motionless In White song lyrics, which is why I named the boy Chris, after the lead singer. The real Chris Ceruli and my Chris are not the same person though, I only borrowed his name.

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1. Poison

Her bright blue eyes filled with tears, and for one moment, Chris was willing to do anything to prevent them from running over. Then reality hit him, and he remembered why he had screamed at her.


“How can you think like that about me?” Abigail whispered, her voice shivering like it was about to break.


“I saw you” he mumbled and looked away. “I saw everything that night” A long silence followed when she understood that she would not be able to lie herself out of this one. He glanced up at her, and tried to remember the times when this never happened, the times when they had been happy.


She looked the same, just the same as she had done when they met, but the fun girl he had fallen in love with was long gone, and the beautiful body standing in front of him was nothing more than an empty shell. She had skin pale as alabaster and long black hair, flowing down her back like a waterfall of ink. But the most recognizable thing about her was her big, forget-me-not-blue eyes. Abigail, who said she loved him when she was afraid to lose him, and said she wanted him to die, when she wasn’t. You never forgot about her. Ever.


“I was drunk. You know I would never hurt you on purpose, Chris!” And yet you do, all the time, he thought. “I never loved him!” she cried and took a step towards him, as if she expected him to take her in his arms. Chris backed away. “You know you are the only one I lo…” he couldn’t hear the rest of her sentence through the door that had closed between them. For one, long moment he just stared at the rough, black painted wood, then he turned around and left her alone in the kitchen.


As he walked through the living room he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror that always lay on the coffee table. He had a thin face, a crooked nose after a fight two years ago and half long black hair. Two golden brown eyes stared back at him from dark seas of makeup and his drawn eyebrows had an angry expression. Chris slammed the front door closed behind him, and wasn’t sure if he wanted Abigail to run after him, or let him go. Outside, the cold February wind whipped though his long black cloak and made him shiver, but not enough to be worth crawling back inside. How had it come to this?


For four years she had been the little devil on his shoulder, the tiny voice in his head that told him to do bad things. When they first met, Abigail had been a rude, sarcastic, fun girl and Chris had never been happier than he had been during their first year together. She had still been kind, in her own twisted ways, and together they had tried everything. Everything.
 It had worked fine, until they tried that first joint. From there on everything had fallen apart. Somewhere Chris had a mother, a father and a younger brother, but he had pushed them all out of his life until all he had left was Abigail, and the drugs she gave him. Abigail, who died a little bit after every pill. The drugs was like a poison, filling her, killing her, and infecting him every time they kissed.


He shook his head and opened the door to a bar, attracted by the light and the promise of warmth inside. The small pub was empty, except a few middle aged, drunk men sitting in a corner. One of them mumbled something about faggots in makeup, but Chris ignored it and the following laughter, and ordered a whiskey at the bar.


Sitting in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice the curled-up napkin that first hit his back, but when a small glass followed, and hit his shoulder, he span around. The man that had thrown the glass was standing by their table, with a stupid grin on his face. Chris walked over to him, standing so near he could feel the alcohol stinking breath of the small man, and said, struggling to control his anger;


“Leave me alone!” laughter and whines came from the other men, but the small man he was standing in front of just looked up at him with small grey eyes and gave him an evil smile.
“Did you borrow your mommy’s  makeup again?” he said with a voice thick of beer.
Hit him! Chris jumped backwards. That voice! Could it be..? Hit him! He deserves it! Abigail’s voice was clear, even though it was only in his head.


“Did you steal mommy’s earrings as well and put them in your lip?” asked the grey eyed man, and new laughter rose from the table. Sissy! They’re right about you! Chris was breathing heavily, and had to use all his strength to turn around and walk slowly, with robot like movements away from the men’s table. That was when the first bottle flew past him and got smashed against the wall just a foot or two, from his head. Kill him! Abigail screamed in his head, and Chris span around and hit the man in the face, so hard he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The other men looked shocked at him for a moment, and then they all rose, with broken bottles in their fists, and he had no choice but to run, still with Abigail’s demands of murder echoing through his head.

 

She found him on the doorstep, still fighting the wish to go inside and see her. He hated her more than ever when she gave him that complacent, cold smile, but still he didn’t have the strength to resist when she dragged him inside.
“You’re so pathetic, Chris, do you know that?” she kissed him, and he felt a pill being put in his mouth. “You need it, you stupid drug addict, don’t you?” He hated how right she was, and swallowed whatever she had given him. “What have happened to you, Chris? You used to have such a glittering future ahead of you, what happened to that?” she asked and ran her hand though his hair. This time he answered her question.


“I met you. That’s what happened” he said and felt the drugs get released into his blood. Like a magic potion, it flowed through his veins, making all the sharp edges of sorrow and hate dull, and the colors garnish. She laughed and when he lost balance, she pushed him down on the couch.


There was something wrong! This was nothing like what he had taken before, his head was spinning and the walls and ceiling bent in impossible angels. Abigail leaned over him, smiling of the terrified look on his face. There was nothing garnish about her, she was the only clear thing in this world of madness, but despite that, those cold, forget-me-not-blue eyes frightened him more than anything else.


“What, what was that?!” he gasped, as his throat seemed to shrink until it was of the size of a drinking straw.


“Don’t ever try to leave me again, Chris!” She snapped, and her smile turned into a grotesque mask of hatred. “Because if you ever try again, I will kill you!” the words coming out of her mouth was now a thick, black slime, tripping down her chin and staining her white shirt. “You can’t live without me, Chris. We dragged each other down here, and you’re not leaving me here alone” Then she smiled, insanely, so he could see the madness that had always been hidden behind motionless, blue eyes. Abigail bent down to kiss him, and the black slime that was dripping out of her mouth fell on his chest. It was burning hot, and he tried to push her away, but he had lost all control of his limbs. The black slime was the poison that had killed her three years ago!


And then it was too late. Her lips met his, and he could feel the poison burning inside of him like acid. Suddenly Chris regained control of his body, waved his arm in panic, and smashed the mirror on the table into a thousand glittering pieces. Abigail hardly noticed it, just held her hands around his neck, like she wanted to choke him to death. He had to get her away! He had to!
Chris grabbed a long, thin shard so hard, the sharp edges cut his hand and his blood dripped down on the floor. Then he buried it in her side, and warm blood started pumping out through his fingers. Abigail cut loose of him, and for one last moment he stared into shocked, forget-me-not-blue eyes, then she fell on top of him, dead.


A long silence went over the room, and all the garnish colors and bending floors disappeared.
“Abigail?” Chris sat up and looked at her. The black slime was gone, like it had never existed. She was not a demon anymore, she was just a girl. A dead girl. “Noo” he moaned and took her in his arms, like if the warmth of his body would wake her up, but she remained dead. “I’m so sorry, Abigail” he whispered and looked at her face. It was like death had wiped all evil of it, and she looked as innocent as she had done the day they met. How could he have changed into this, this monster that killed the only one he loved?!


“What...what have I become?!” he whispered into the empty air. And then he knew. He had become Abigail. He looked in the broken shard buried in her side, and a pair of forget-me-not-blue eyes stared back, laughing, forever laughing.

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