Stolen Hearts (Chapter 1)

So this is how it feels like when you are at the end of your journey.

I didn’t think that there would be time for a self-reflection like this but here I am, doing what people in movies and TV shows do – self-reflecting, inside a cheap motel cabinet as I wait for the right time to stab that son of a bitch in the heart and get mine back – literally.
As this thought processes in my head, the man that I have been looking for, for as long as I can remember, is now in front of the closed cabinet, smiling at me, as if he can see from the other side. I push open the cabinet door and quickly stab him in the liver.
Life wasn’t always this complicated, I reflect some more as I watch him still mocking and laughing at me while I stab him repeatedly.

One thousand and seventy-four days ago

Here’s the routine: I get home from work; I feed my cat, have a light dinner, work out for an hour, shower and go to bed. When I wake up in the morning; I feed my cat, have breakfast, get ready for work and go to work.
There’s the occasional bar hopping, which I feel too old for despite being only thirty – there are just too many nineteen year olds in the pubs – I also have a lot to say about but that’s for another time. There are the dates that never went anywhere – it’s not me, it’s you deal or was it the other way around, I can’t be bothered to remember hazy flashes.
I got plenty on my plate.

One thousand and seventy-three nights ago, I woke up to the sound of my cat, Pushkin, meowing like he lost his senses. I didn’t open my eyes but I listened to him go at it, hoping he would stop eventually. I realized I couldn’t feel my arms and something was weighing down on my chest.
It can’t be the cat.
As I groggily opened my eyes, I see a stranger sitting on top of me, smiling, and waving around pen knife in front of my face.
It wasn’t an ex or my crush at the gym who I wished so hard would stalk me and break into my house in the middle of the night.
The knife gleamed, reflecting the little light that is coming from the bathroom.
I was frozen in place, conscious that this man will kill me eventually. I started shaking in fear and he was so amused by my reaction, the complete dread on my face. He was hushing, hushing and smiling and smiling. He slid down and lay on top of me, whispering that he could stay like this on me forever and nuzzled my neck. I don’t know how long that went and suddenly, he whispered, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe’ and he plunged the knife down.
There was no feeling, I’m not sure if I even had time to scream. I do not recall pain or any words said after, just the sound you make when you go under water for the first time.

I sat up from my bed, breathing in as if I was coming up for air. The last time I felt like this was when I had the worst nightmare of my life which came true eventually – it’s a sad, sob story but that’s another story for another day. I was already crying. Times like these makes me wish I had someone to comfort me. I look at where my phone is and decided to just shrug it off.
We all have nightmares.
I get off the bed slowly and make my way to the bathroom in the darkness, feeling the wall and my surroundings for support. I could’ve sworn I left the light on. I am feeling rather disoriented and a little lighter in some way.
It was just a nightmare, I assured myself again.
Just a nightmare, I tell myself again as I find and flipped the switch on. The first thing I see when I looked on the mirror was blood. My entire reflection on the mirror is covered in blood. My entire chest, my shorts were covered in blood and there was a hole where my heart is supposed to be.

All I remember were flashes, like visual cue cards were being shown to me in random but I refuse to read it or follow it.
Reaching out to the hole in my chest, shaking, convulsing even, I don’t know how long til I was going to die, who’s going to take care of Pushkin, my family, who will mourn for me, did I regret not eating that carrot cake – yes, fucking hell, who’s going to find me on the floor dead, everything went spinning and blackness.
So, if you are having a really bad day, think of me.

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