First Kiss (AComFttU)

Their date had been fun and romantic. It wasn't every day that something like this would happen.

They had been together for almost a few months. Before that, they were friends. They were happy and that's all that mattered.

As Garret parked the car on the driveway, he saw the expression of content on Emily's likeness on the pane of glass. He was pleased.

As they got out, they both exchanged conversation. "This evening was awesome" and so on and so forth.

Then, as they locked eyes and smiled at each other, the space sluggishly diminished.

They became closer, closer, oh so closer... And so gentle.

The door unlocked. It was her mother. They acted like nothing happened whilst something did.

"What are you doing, honey?" Emily's mom asked. "Come inside. It's cold! And it's 11!"

Then, she went inside without a word. All they did was exchange a smile. The door closed.

Garret was confused but still happy. He strutted back to the car. He entered, then closed the door. 

He was disappointed that everything went South. This was their first date, everything was fine until that point. Nonetheless, it was pretty late.

He sighed, shifted the peddle and drove off.

Graduation came two months later. Hats felt like feathers collating to the excitement.

Garret conquered school. Now to Emily.

After he said goodbye to his friends, he walked to his car.

There he saw Emily. With another man. They were kissing so passionately, it almost felt as if it wasn't an affair. His mind drifted to loneliness, then to anger

As he closed the door, the slam emanated through her right ear. She saw Garret, his aggrieved token. She discerned her mistake as he went away.

A ringtone exuded from the speakers in his car. The ID was on the infotainment display: Emily.

Wanting to let out anger, he answered.

He spoke. "Out of everyone, I didn't know that you were so eager to be the slut!" He accented the last word, that one.

"Garret..."

"WHY, EMILY!" He vociferated, refraining from the walls. "I trusted you! You fucking cunt!"

He hung up. He hammered his hand onto the horn and shouted in agony.

A week later, he was fired from his job for outbursts. A month later, he was kicked out. A day after that, his friends abandoned him. They just couldn't go through with it.

He was later hired as a Walmart cashier. He had rare outbursts, but it was something to do.

He texted his friends, "I need you right now. I need help." They all said, "We can't."

About another month, he lay down in bed, depressed and lonely. His clothes were nice, but his face and hair was unruly. He longed for emotion or something at the least.

He started to cry.

Then, he saw altered streams of consciousness. Altered versions of Emily saying, "Do it!" They were all fake.

He didn't want to give in to them. He yelled as he clenched his head and buried himself in the sheets.

A high pitch began to ring.

Then, a person appeared in the corner of the room. Out of nowhere.

He said, "Do it! Why are you living, you fuck? Just do it!!"

everything s t o p p e d

He then got up, possessed. He couldn't help but oblige.

He reached for his pocketknife and flipped it open. Slashed open a large wound on his arm. Tears flowed down his face, but he smiled and laughed sadistically. He found the emotion he was looking for.

Blood began to collect on the wound and blade. He then slashed again deeply in the same spot, he hit a nerve.

He winced.

Garret then plunged the wound into his left thigh. He screamed from the pleasure and was now laughing maniacally.

His eyes showed demonic pleasure, anxiety and torture. His smile was that of someone who knew pain.

His mind said yes while his body said no.

After everything was said and done, he took it out and threw it somewhere else.

All he did was pour his beer onto the wounds, wrapped paper towels around them and secured them with yards of floss.

He just lay there, all exhausted. The pain was paralyzing; he felt woozy.

There was a rattle at the door, and then it opened

Realizing his mistakes, he muttered, "Shit."

It was Emily, so obvious. But why now?

Seeing him lying on the bed, she rushed to him. It only took her seconds to see the knife and the wounds.

She started to sniffle. "No, no, no, no, no..."

He opened his eyes and saw her. Still as beautiful as their first date.

"Em.i.." He started to mutter, but death seemed to grip his throat.

"Yes, YES. It's me. I'm here."

Then, he slowly rose his hand to her face.

Then, he gripped his hands around her throat and clenched. He spun around and knocked her to the floor. She was gasping. He was on top with a face of despair, hatred and torture.

"I so want to fucking KILL YOU!" He said. He began to squeeze tighter.

She tried to struggle free, writhing in pain. She tried to kick him where all men are vulnerable. It was a sin that he was too clever.

"Why? WHY!! TELL ME NOW!!" He shouted.

She couldn't speak, as he had the iron grip. He was still angry. Her movement started to slow, giving in to the curtain call.

She twitched once, then it almost seemed like Emily would die. She started to choke.

Then, reason came to his mind and he let go. She audibly gasped, coughed and got up.

One part of her wanted to escape that room, from the hideous tortured beast she had shot.

The majority of her wanted to understand his pain. Why he had to do it. She called 911 just in case. She was distressed by everything.

She crawled over to him, where he started to cry and be still. She sat next to him, shedding a tear.

"I was drunk that day." She said. "The man that I was hanging out with was Jack, who had given me a drink." She started to sob again. Garret was still. "I sort of stumbled into him. I don't know what happened until after. I'm so sorry you had to go through this. I don't want you to die.

She held his hand."I need you."

Garret then realized his biggest mistake, misconceiving it as an affair. He shed one tear, wishing for and then started gasping for air.

Paramedics arrived. They found him, took him.

It was grueling hours. Frightened yet stern doctors, nurses and surgeons, who all came to help him.

They dressed his wounds, treated and operated on him. They all saw the pain paused on his face.

Family and friends came to see him. But he more alone then ever. He often sobbed alone in the hospital room, longing for someone to talk to.

The diagnosis did not help either.

Months later, he resigned from Walmart. He was rehired after a debate on his health. He moved into an apartment and started an internship at a media corporation.

He was still lonely, but felt glad it was over.

He started talking to Emily again, apologized and asked her to come over. She accepted.

Later that day, Emily arrived. They said hi.

They talked a little bit, both glad the other was fine. He confessed that he missed her and regretted everything. She reciprocated the feeling.

They held onto another for a minute. A hug so tight; so passionate, warm and loving. Then, they let go.

She started to leave. He caught her hand and said softly. "Wait."

She looked back at him, who wanted something else.

He stepped closer and looked at the eyes of someone he knew. He raised his hand and stroked her cheek, the one before he choked her.

He gently held her again and kissed. It wasn't just passionate, it was something he needed to ease his pain.

After, they left the room for a walk. Both happy and in another's company. It was a beautiful day after all.