8 /PHILOPHOBIA/

RAGE

why couldn't I kill her?

now asking myself this question for a millionth time, more disappointed in myself , weak.

swallowing the bitter shot of liquor down my throat, all I can see are those grey eyes.

those grey eyes are going to haunt me.

I still cant explain what happened, the moment I laid my eyes on her.

when I touched her, it felt too damn good.

man she is so soft, warm.

drowning the last of the contents, running my hand through my hair, agitated.

holly fuck!

she has to die.

just what I needed, a fucking distraction.

a loose end.

staring at my wrist watch, its time.

the supplier is supposed to meet me here by now.

maybe getting some business done is going to take my mind off her.

getting out of the lousy bar, i walk down the dark alley until i see a silhouette at the far end.

"Broski, I have the merchandise here with me, where's the other half of the deal?" Italian accent so dominant.

he's one of fathers new friends.

he hands me the case, opening it to examine the contents "good, father will wire you the payments"

giving him a short glance, I node then leave.

disappearing into the night with one thought in my mixed up mind

Her.

LINDA

finding myself on the floor the next morning, left me with many questions. waking up disoriented and with a terrible headache, flashbacks from last night start to fill my head.

he didn't kill me

I'm alive.

how? why?

terrible shivers run through me. what if he comes back for you?

what if he's still inside the house?

slowly, I drag myself up. vision still fuzzy and my head feels so heavy.

a second passes, and then two..

silence.

he cant be here, he left

thank god.

wondering how long I've been out, I take a glance at the table clock

shit!

work

I inwardly groan, thinking about the deadlines and last night.

I'm a mess.

I still haven't got anything for the article and I'm out here hosting psychos in my house.

I'm so getting fired.

sited in my cubicle at work, everything from last night comes back to me.

in pieces.

I decide I don't want unnecessary attention, who will I tell?

what if he comes back if I tell?

he will come for you.

giving myself a pep talk that its all over, he wont come back. I'm alive now.

just keep my mouth shut, it shouldn't be hard.

standing by my bedroom window, its been a week since I ran into him. everything is almost back to normal now. I still cant help the slight fear I feel at the pit of my stomach.

he's gone.

after a shower and some shitty breakfast, I decide to get back to the article. immersing myself into work, an article about ' 'undeniable passion' Jane said.

then I think of him, that monster

the way he looked at me, those dark brown eyes, almost black at their intensity.

I cant forget that kiss.

goosebumps spread throughout my body, as if I'm being watched through the window. I stare down the calm street.

he wont come.

surprised rather by myself, what was I expecting..

to find him looking at me, with those striking eyes.

he's a monster

releasing a frustrated sigh

what is wrong with me? he almost killed me.

I stand, walking towards the fridge, I need some wine to get through this.

drinking my stupidity out of my system

smart.

now over four hours, and all I've achieved is emptying the wine bottle. staring at my notepad, stuck at 'what is passion'.

and I honestly don't know the answer for that

all I can think of is brown eyes.

its all I've been thinking of.

its either I'm officially a lunatic or I have that Stockholm syndrome thing.

I've never had a man look at me like he did

the longing in his eyes was alarming. his touch turns me into a live wire.

you need to stop

he hurt you.

I cant stop the tears falling down my cheeks.

make it stop.

the fear is still vivid. now it hurts.

holding my face between my hands, I break into a series of sobs.

make it better.

"come here"

I freeze

No, no it cant be.

yes

I must be drunk or dreaming.

please, let it be a dream. I need to be dreaming.

slowly, I raise my head. hoping.

it cant be him

let it be him

its him.