Derek’s POV
Long before Emily, there were others.
By others, I’m referring to my ex-girlfriends. Each of them meant nothing to me. None mattered because they lived senselessly.
All of them were afraid.
Why? Does that make them cowards?
I need to find someone willing to accept it, a mindless person.
Will that help me? Can I do it with my own hands?
Is it possible to find a partner who is not compelled by society to believe death is frightening?
To acknowledge what waits for us all at the end of life.
Would that bring me peace? How do I overcome it?
Being afraid of our own death or being fearful of others’ death are attributes for the absurd.
It will only lead to a deathless death.
June 6 at 11:17pm
“Ah shit! Baby, are you okay? That was scary!” Amelia screams after we pulled over to the side of the road. The hood of the car was completely smashed in. Half of the bumper was touching the ground.
“Damn, that barely made a dent.” I say with a smile.
“Derek! What the hell? Of course, it did. There is a giant ass dent in my car. That could have killed us!” Amelia’s hands tremble on the steering wheel.
“Wish it were that easy, but it isn’t.”
Amelia wipes her tears away, smearing her makeup. She shrieks, “Derek! What are you saying? Un-like you! I want to keep my life!”
“And that’s boring.” I yawn.
Amelia huffs as she opened the driver’s side door and slowly stepped out of the vehicle. She locates the deceased animal and walks closer to it. Following her out of the car, I ran after her to make up for the distance between us.
As she got closer and closer and closer.
Amelia screams again when seeing the deer covered in blood. I plug my ears to mute her horrified cries.
“Amelia, scream one more time and I will...”
“What will you do, Derek? Kill me!”
Taking a deep breath, I assessed our argument and considered her suggestion.
“You’re too afraid. That takes the fun out of it.” I say, holding back a chuckle.
“What?! So, me being afraid takes the fun out of killing me. Derek, I can’t believe you!” she shouts through her hands.
Without hesitation, “Yes, Amelia, it does.”
“Glad to know I am a kill joy. You wouldn’t dare to lay a hand on me.” Amelia turns back to the deceased deer and kneeled beside it. “... Poor buddy, I’m sorry.” She whispers softly, touching the animal’s corpse.
“... Amelia. I’ve changed my mind.” I whisper as I draw closer to her crouching figure.
“And what is that?” She asks, shaking her head.
I hated when she did that, as if shrugging me off like I was nothing.
I bent towards her before she could turn around and grabbed hold of her hair. She immediately shrieks while her hands instinctively reached mine to free herself.
“Derek, let go of me!”
I reach into my back pocket, pull out a switchblade, and flick it open in a single-handed motion. As I drew Amelia closer to me, I placed it on her rose-colored neck.
“I’m going to count down from three. Amelia, can you explain why we can’t accept death?” I ask, slightly pressing the blade’s tip into her.
“... Three.”
She persists to negotiate. “Derek, please... don’t do this.”
“... Two.”
“Don’t, baby! Please, it’s because we’re a...”
“... One.”
I stab her forcefully in the throat until she collapses in my arms.
The painful part of that death was...
My physician put me on meds.
(TOD) Amelia’s POV on June 7 at 12:00am
“You look like death!” I scream, heaving for breath.
“Why are you breathing so heavily?” Reaper asks, laughing.
To my surprise, I realized I wasn’t.
An extended, eerie smile crosses the dark figure’s face, flattered to be recognized, as he hooks me with his scythe, pulling me down into the abyss.
<To be continued>
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