Love Is a Crime

I did not regret it; these were part of my actions. 

As I was on top of him, he could not lay still. It made me feel good, to finally make some decisions by myself. So, I did not hesitate one bit. Before I had time to think, my hand was touching his belly, it felt deep, then I continued my way down. He cried; I did not stop as he laid on his back defenseless. I had done my part, satisfied, I took a deep breath, trying to catch it. My heart was beating extremely fast, everything was done, finally. 

Then I jumped in the shower, he was still in bed, motionless. I left my clothes on the floor since they were torn apart. What if they found out? Then, what was I supposed to do? How could I continue my days after what just happened? I did not regret it one bit, yet I could not understand what would my future be: Build a family and live happily ever after? Was that what life was all about? 

I got out of the shower, freshly washed, and put on a new pair of black clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror, I didn’t look that bad, although my hair was tangled up and exhaustion could be read on my face. 

My mind was still fuzzy and empty at the same time, I could not stay still in the apartment of a man I did not know. I picked up my few things: my previous pair of clothes, my shoes, and I was ready to leave. But just as I passed the frame of the exit door, I remembered at the last minute the only thing that I could not leave in there. I went back next to the bed, he was asleep, his face was blank, he was a mess. I reached to the floor to take what I almost forgot, but as I could not bring it all wet, I went to the bathroom once again. Under the flowing water, thick red liquid flowed down the sink and by the time I could see my reflection in it, its sharpness was back as it ever was. I killed this man. 

I brought him to his final rest.

By Ayli Girard

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