I did not like the way she talks to me. I did not like the way she brushes her hair every time a much more 'appealing' guy comes by. I did not like the way she flaunts her eyes at other boys while I was with here. I did not like her at all. I was with her and she was with me. But we did not belong together. So, I murdered her.
I scratched the wooden panel of the door to her bedroom. It had been thirty minutes since I knocked and an hour since I came by. At my first knock, she said to give her a minute. At the second, she said to give her five more. I did not complain, instead I waited because I am patient enough. I went downstairs and came back ten minutes after. This time, I did not knock. I pressed the side of my head close to the door. I can hear her. She was giggling. Why?
She liked me. She said that after two weeks of dating. And I liked her, of course I liked her. She was smart, funny and pretty, too. The way we looked at each other that time, it was magical. It was love. No, not love. It was true love. A sixteen-year old boy can only wish for nothing but true love. I had wished it. I dreamed of it every single night. And I blamed the movies for it, telling stories about love and how it always end in happy endings. I was a freshman and she was a junior but it did not matter because it was true love. Why should I question my destiny and the magic of true love?
She was giggling and then there was silence. And a moan. It was not hers, it belonged to someone else. It belonged to a man. I frantically knocked on her door.
"Cher! Cher!" I shouted.
"What?" Her voice sounded annoyed. "Give me five more minutes! My zipper is stuck."
"Can I help?" I offered.
"No, thank you. Just wait downstairs, okay?"
"Okay." I replied. But I did not go downstairs. I just stood there and listened.
A month after I received her glorious and sweet 'yes', our relationship went as good as I imagined it would be. It was summer so we always go on a date almost every night. We went out to watch local games, to go strolling along the boulevard, to kiss while watching the sunset. It was heaven and I was never happier than when I was with her. Our relationship was intimate but not on a physical level. I was educated by my parents on the dangers and the consequences of premarital sex and I shared it with her. She respected that although there are times when she just slips her hand inside my pants but I always stopped her. And she would stop. And I loved her more because of that.
My sister's play is still an hour away but I have to be there thirty minutes early to help her set up. I heard the moan again, and this time, it was louder. There was a hush. Her hush. My heart pounded faster and sweat started to come out of my skin. This is wrong. No. She's just alone inside. She must be brushing her cat or her dog. I occupied my mind with a lot of things that she could be doing to rule out the one thing that I hoped is not happening. I knocked again. The knock was more frantic, more anxious.
"Another minute." She called. "I'm just finishing up."
"Just hurry. You know I can't be late." I had no choice but to wait for her. She was my ride because I can't drive yet.
"Okay. Just wait downstairs and I'll be right down."
I did not reply.
Summer passed. It was back to school again and we were still together. Four months and still going strong, I thought. But weeks after classes started, something changed. Of course, we still go out on Fridays of most days and sometimes actually, most of time she would decline. And if we meet after school she would always find ways to excuse herself. She would have drama practice or audition or tutor a friend. There was always an excuse. One time, I saw her talking to Luke with his buddies. Luke was the famous guy in school, the socialite, the jockey, the bully. They noticed me from afar and started laughing. Cher saw me but she just looked at me and then walked away. I felt dejected. That night, I texted her and told her how I felt when she did not acknowledge me. She replied and assured me that she was just in a hurry for practice and that she loved me, that she always will. I told her that I loved her, too. Because I did.
I walked back and forth in front of her room. I did not listen on the door anymore. I was afraid that what I was suspecting is true. The anxiety worsen. I wanted her to open the door and we'll just leave. I wanted her to open it and kiss me and tell me that there's nothing to worry about. As my mind was preoccupied, I did not notice that my hands were already balled into fists and beads of sweat were pouring in. I was not only anxious, I was nervous.
I went back to the door to knock. I hesitated and thought that what if maybe she'll get mad at me for making her hurry? My heart was racing and my mind was filled with other thoughts on what's taking her so long. Doubts filled my brain, filling up what little it could fill. Before I would lose my mind, I went directly into the bathroom which was just straight through the corridor. I wiped my face with a towel. Breathed in and out, trying to relax myself. Then I opened drawers. I did not know what I was looking for but I opened them anyway.
On the last drawer at the bottom, there were keys. They're duplicate keys. On each key where names embedded on them. I fumbled through the keys and found the one with 'Cher'. I went straight back to her door. I was hesitant to open it first. But the anxiety helped me gained the strength I needed. I inserted the key, twisted it and opened the door. Then my whole world fell apart.
There on her bed sitting was Luke, half naked his pants just below his knees, his man part on Cher's mouth. I stood there stunned, and so were they. Cher stood up and started towards me but I did not want to hear her say that she did not love me anymore. I turned around and sprinted down the stairs and out into the streets.
For days, I did not talk to anybody especially not to her. She called many times but I did not answer all of it. I did not go to school either so that I won't see her. A week past and I had pondered on all the things that happened. I still hated her but I decided that I should her what she has to say. Because I did not want to go to class, I waited just outside the school. At five afternoon, classes were dismissed but I did not see her came out. Still, I waited for her.
It was already seven in the evening when she came out, she was alone. I followed her. I think she noticed that was someone was following her, she turned around. She saw me. Then she talked to me, she pleaded me to forgive her. She explained to me why it happened but I did not hear her anymore. All I can hear is Luke's moan while she was pleasing and teasing him. I closed my eyes to shake away the sound but when I opened it I saw her again, in her bedroom with Luke. Anger swept through me, my knees shaking and I fell to the ground. I felt the cold stones on my hands. I could hear Cher's voice clearer and she was still saying she was sorry. The next thing happened so fast, I gripped on the hard stone on my hand and bashed it into her thick skull.
Blood splattered on my face. Thick, red blood. She fell to the ground, this time she was pleading for her life. But I did not pause to listen. I sat on top of her and hit her on the head. Then I hit her again. Again. Again. Again. Suddenly she fell silent. I stopped and watched her body went still. Dead. I released the rock from my grip. Tears fell from my eyes when I realized what I had done. There was blood on my hands, there was blood everywhere. HER blood.
I was sobbing. I stood up. I did not know where else to go. So I ran. Letting my feet took over. With tears in my eyes and guilt in my heart, I ran as fast as I can.
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