I was running. Running so fast I could barely feel my breath as it entered and left my lungs. Running so fast that my head throbbed with blood and made my vision foggy. “What have i done?”
I lay flat on the ground, the wetness on the street seeping through my clothes and cooling my back. My head stopped and i opened my eyes and sat up. He was standing in front of me now, I could see him clearly, staggering forward.
“Drop the gun, I’m here for you” Daniel reached out reassuringly, one hand reaching toward me and the other pressing hard on his left leg, where I’d just shot him.
I only meant to graze him, after all he was running first.
Daniel went onto his knees.
“Layla, don’t, please, we can fix this, it will be ok” he begged
But it was too late, I’d already shot him. If he went to hospital like that they would know and they’d investigate, and I’d would never get out. It was either him, or me.
I turned the gun in my hand and started to cry.
“No no Lay, give it to me, honey. I know you’re angry, I know what I did was wrong. You were never meant to find out like this.” Daniel had his head in his bloody hands. I could see the blood from his femur oozing out through the hole in his jeans. I didn’t know what was worse, that I had just shot my husband or that he was still asking for my forgiveness after all that.
There he was, making me think that I was the one who was in the wrong. The lying, cheating bastard. “The meeting was cancelled by the way. I lugged my bags up three fucking flights of stairs because of that shitty broken lift” I screamed through gritted teeth.
Most of all, it was the flash of the kiss I witnessed outside their top floor flat between him and Natalie, my best friend. Her arms over his shoulders and fingers grasping his hair, whilst he, with only a towel around his waist, clutched her bum with clenched hands, sucking on her lips. I couldn’t get those words out of my mouth, I already felt sick.
I gripped the gun in my hands, writhing in anger and hurt. I wanted to shoot again. Panicking, I threw the gun on the floor and kicked it into the bushes. I turned around, and ran. This time my blood was boiling and lungs were on fire. I made the mistake of looking back to see Daniel laying on the floor trying to tourniquet his wound. A military man who knew what to do, he’d be fine. Her history had a way of repeating itself, but at least this time she knew the best place to shoot without killing.
MarieGWrites 