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Feel Me

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Feel Me

AWARENESS

KEAN

I never thought.

punch

You would grace me with your presence.

My back hits the wall. With all my might I try to stand but A kick in my gut stops me. I look up and smirk at my victim while spitting blood.

Too bad that agitates my victim.

"Ya think you can get away?!"

Punch

Don't you feel pity? I am getting beaten to a plum. And here you are doing nothing. I would appreciate it if you could help.

Don't worry though. I am not asking for it.

Punch

Maybe I am.

My victim grabs my collar, pulling me close to his face, bringing me back to reality.

"Answer Me! Ya hear?! You cheating bastards! I will throw you in the dumpster where ya belong all bruised up and beaten!"

His eyes show amusement, enjoying the thought of imagining me like that.

Can you believe it? The audacity of this man.

In this dark alley way where there is no one in sight. What if I just reach my hand inside my jacket, pull out my knife and plunge it right into my victim's neck.

Would you like that?

Would you like it if I fought back?

My muscles flex as I pull out the knife forcefully. The blood spurts out in a violent gush, splattering in all directions, painting the surrounding area with a grisly red hue.

My victim drops to his knees, going limp, his head hitting the pole behind him. life getting sucked out of his eyes as My victim stares at me in horror.

That look.

I love it.

A tortured look suits him better, don't you think?

Oh. did I scare you?

No no that won't do. Sorry I will tone it down a bit. I Don't want to scare you off.

We just met but...

I inhale deeply, the scent of fresh blood sends a chill down my spine. My eyes fall on My victim's already dead, body.

What a waste. I thought he might put up a fight but he went out so easily.

I shake my head, my hand rummage through my left front Pocket of my black jeans. I pull out a wrinkled tissue paper and start cleaning the blade of my pocket knife.

...I feel you.

I look up at the stary sky, a small smile dancing on my lips. The wind picks up, swaying my purple hair away from my face.

You are watching me. I feel your presence.

My darling Reader~ I can feel you.

Aren't you curious about all this?

I hope you are

because

I want to keep you here.

Sorry, was that creepy?

It might be the blood getting to my head.

I brush my thumb across my cheek to wipe some of the blood off.

Come.

Walk with me.

My house is a block away. I live in a shady part of this city. The slums, they call it. No police here but crime is everywhere. A new dead body every week. It's nothing new. This place has always been like that.

I unlock the door of my house, my hand pushes the door open, walking in. The darkness greets me. I slam it shut, not bothering to lock it in the process.

What? You want me to lock it? Ho ho~? Worried for me, are you?

I take off my shoes near the front door and walk towards my couch.

I need rest.

But I smell of blood and sweat.

I need to treat my wounds.

I want to shower.

I plop face first on the couch, my legs dangling. A low groan escapes my lips.

So tired.

If you were here, would you have helped me relax?

Would you treat my injuries?

Would you make me feel better?

I changed my position and lay on my back, eyes glued to the rusty white ceiling of my house.

No moonlight shining through, but I know this house's layout with my eyes close.

How can I sense you? I know you are here with me, flipping or scrolling through text, present in my brain.

I feel a presence beside me as my eyes dart towards it.

You, standing near the couch and bending slightly to look at me. Your hair swaying with your movements. I lift my hand up to cup your cheek.

How would it feel to touch you? To feel your skin against mine.

I blink and you are gone.

I groan in disappointment.

You are playing with me.

I move my legs to the side and stand up. I open the door of my room and close it. I walk towards the mirror in front of me.

In The room dimly lit, My reflection stars back at me. I lean close to the mirror, my eyes glowing crimson. My hair shades of purple. My hand runs through my hair, wild strands falling in front of my face. I tilt my chin up, my sharp jawline has a cut.

My tongue slides across my bottom lip, which is busted and split open in the middle. The taste of dried blood registers on my tongue. I swallow, my throat dry.

I wonder if you like what you see?

My looks I mean.

Don't I look Handsome?

Yes or no.

I already know it's a yes.

What can I say, My beauty knows no bounds.

A chuckle echoes in the empty room.

You know what, I am starting to like you here, being with me.

I slide my black jacket off my shoulder, also taking off my white shirt as they are both soaked in blood, they fall on the floor.

Not caring about it too much, I begin to take off my black jeans. Now only in my boxers. Before you know it, I am already on my bed under the covers.

I know, darling. I should wash up or clean my wounds but I don't have the energy to do so.

Tomorrow, maybe. I also need to report back to him.