Crave Me,Kill Me

Two years.

Two fucking years, that’s how much time I wasted on that asshole Charlie, and the fact that I didn’t figure him out sooner makes me feel so stupid.

To me, he was the perfect package, a man sent directly from God with a heart of gold.

Little did I know that he was just a fantastic actor, because how else can you explain the fact that I never even suspected him? Not once, and not because I didn’t have reasons to, but I just trusted him too much, and that was my first mistake.

Our entire relationship had been a lie.

All the promises, the whispers we shared in the dark, the undying love he said he had for me, the dreams about our future, all blatant lies.

It was his birthday last Tuesday and after proposing to me two weeks before that, I thought that there was no better way to celebrate his special day than to give him some wonderful news, news that we were expecting a baby. I thought that it was the perfect birthday present but apparently, he had other ideas.

I had only just found out about the baby myself, but rather than being scared about what that could mean for my future, I was excited and I was hopeful,  because I knew that I had a good man by my side, a man who would stand with me no matter what, and care for our child no matter the cost. I had no doubt in my mind that he would make a wonderful father for our child, an excellent role model to our little bundle of joy.

If only I knew how wrong I was.

I was so excited about breaking the news to him, I could barely sit still.

I spent hours and hours picturing how his face would look when I finally gave him the good news, and it always made me smile.

But to my greatest dismay, the only picture I have of him in my mind right now, is how he looks when he is balls deep inside another woman, and it doesn’t matter how hard I try, I can not seem to wipe that image away from my memory.

Every time I remember it, my heart shatters into a million more pieces, but I just can’t stop myself from relieving the memory over and over again. When I close my eyes, all I can see is his stupid face twisted in pleasure as he drives in and out of the whore. It’s like I’m a masochist or something, torturing myself like that.

I am on freaking autopilot as I turn around and leave his house. It feels like someone else is controlling my body, because I feel completely numb as I walk down the street, hail a cab and head straight home.

I didn’t cry, I couldn’t.

I couldn’t even think, not properly.

The wheels in my head were spinning, trying to make sense of what I had just witnessed.

My vision was all hazy, and my hands were trembling.

I stared at the photo of the baby I was planning to show him, and before I know it, the tears start rolling freely. It doesn’t take long for me to launch into a fit of uncontrollable crying, wailing, and full on screaming. I felt like my sanity was slipping away from me as I hauled things at the wall, smashing and breaking stuff, trying to channel my anger and frustration into a direction, but nothing works because all I feel is heart wrenching, overwhelming grief.

I’m no stranger to heartbreak, far from it. In fact, I have had my fair share of heartbreak in my 23 years of existence, but this, this takes the cake. This is literally the biggest betrayal of my entire life, and I haven’t even turned thirty. All I know is that I am never going to let another man, no, another person hurt me like this ever again.

What hurt me the most was the fact that Charlie hadn’t even bothered to explain or defend himself to me. I half expected him to hit me with the classic “Baby it’s not what it looks like.” or “Baby, I can explain.”, but he didn’t even try. He just sat there and stared at me, unblinking, with dark, empty eyes that I couldn’t recognize. He didn’t seem remorseful or guilty. If anything, he looked bored, like he couldn’t wait for me to leave so that he could conclude his business.

I had stormed out so suddenly, the issue of the baby temporarily forgotten. But now that the reality had sunk in, it had become awfully clear that not only was I pregnant, broke, alone, and on the verge of a mental breakdown.

It occurred to me to call my mom because I knew she would definitely have the perfect advice for me, but I couldn’t risk it, unless of course I wanted to send the woman to an early grave.

I mean, how exactly do you tell your catholic, very religious mother, who would have a literal heart attack if she even knew that you knew what sex was, that you were three weeks pregnant, and with no prospects of getting a husband in the nearest future. You can’t.

I even considered calling my sister Sasha, but that girl had a mouth like a leaking pipe. She couldn’t shut up to save her own life, so rather than telling her, I might as well just go and confess to the parents myself.

I had a few friends, but I was not particularly close to any of them to the point that I would be able to discuss such delicate matters. Still I needed to talk to someone. I had to pour out my frustration one way or another or I was going to lose my mind.

I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to keep the baby, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to consider getting rid of it. Even though I had only just learned about its existence, the little thing had already manage to tie a love string to my heart, and whenever I started to have these wayward thoughts, all it had to do was tug a little, and the guilt that would wash over me would be almost unbearable.

I was still contemplating my options when my phone rang, distracting me from my thoughts.

It was an unknown caller and I had no idea who it could possibly be.

With shaky breaths, I picked up the phone, cleared my throat and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Am I speaking with Miss Elisa Jones?” A woman’s voice said from the other end of the line.

“Yeah?” I replied skeptically.

“My name is Maria Cutler and I’m calling about the job you applied for at NNT cooperation on the 28^th of may.”

“Okay…” I replied unsure where the conversation was headed.

“Well, I am pleased to inform you that we have reviewed your resume and we would like you to come in for an interview on Monday if its convenient for you.”

“Oh…uhm…” I stuttered, unable to form coherent words because of my shock.

To be quite honest, I had totally forgotten about the job, and seeing that I had more pressing issues to deal with at the moment, I hadn’t exactly been thinking about it, but if I was going to keep my baby like I was sure I was going to, then one thing I needed was a stable source of income, and this job was the perfect opportunity, that is in the event that I did get it, because according rumors, it was quite difficult to get a job at NNT because of their insanely high standards. The fact that I had even passed the online test and gotten an interview was a pleasant surprise.

“Hello? Miss Jones, Are you there?”

“Oh, yes, I’m here, I’m here.” I assured her.

“So how does Monday sound? Because if Monday does not work for you, we can reschedule to a date of your earliest convenience.”

“No, no. There would be no need for that. Monday is great.”

“Perfect. Uh, I guess we’ll see you on Monday than. Good luck.”

“Thank you.” I replied just before the line went dead because I knew that I would be needing all the luck I could get.