Killing all my love

Beatrice Costello

What was the point of starting all this, if not, to relieve the mind of all the shackles that bound crazy thoughts? To be able to find Giacomo's forgiveness, to forgive me for ever having believed that I could be truly happy.

A real game of chess formed inside the mind ready to act at every choice and every possible turn, without measures or going back to the hole just the dam bursting to let all the rot take over, one of which could never have erased even if it had tried.

A dangerous game, since human chess, generates deaths. And it's amazing how much it brings a sweet taste to my mouth making me take the tip of my tongue to my lips to wet it wishing I had more of that sensation

Listening to the song over and over in a maddening loop only keeps me more awake as my mind tries to get lost in the meaning of the words. Maybe that's the difference, I accepted the monster that dwells in me as a second layer, like the air I breathe. Did he exist or was he born?

Who will know the designs designed by the devil, who will know which fall he will give?

Each pain of each bite caused the pain to spread throughout the body, with each beating inhibiting my movements, stunning the thoughts that were forming inside, taking up a space that I once believed was good. Or at least I tried to imagine being good.

The space trained since birth to be condescending, patient, loving, and obedient is now just a hollow and dark space, the suicidal desires I had were being taken over by the insane desire to consume every scream and every moan of her pain.

With fire, blood, and the madness intrinsic to the lonely at heart, my mind is taken over by all the ideas flowing in a perfect scheme, the chess pieces moving each time I lift the stick to hit the bastard again and again. Seeing the fury flashing in his eyes, I dropped the staff on the ground bringing our faces close enough, stroking the beard grown by the journey, I find myself imagining how many he tormented without having me quench his thirst.

Blue eyes gleam in response, her tongue sticking out wetting her sinfully reddened lips, was that the point of allowing myself to fall ill? Or was it already down before him? I place my hand on her cheek.

-I love you, Stefano. I say, feeling the rumble in my chest.

The words come out so easily that I don't even know when I came to love my tormentor, I feel my eyes burning with tears taking every breath I take.

-Beatrice -The serious voice stirs something inside me. - Let me go, I promise to pretend it didn't happen.

I sigh, climbing onto the small table with a few things neatly laid out beside it, tracing his outstretched biceps with the tips of my fingernail, eliciting a moan from both of us reaching his wrists, and stopping when he touches the ring on his ring finger.

–What kind of love is this Stefano? - I ask, reaching down, and taking his hands to pick up the red ball trapped between the leather straps on the table.

He lays his head back as I kneel on the wood, feeling my chest heaving in such a painful way, replaying touches and caresses and looks. Was this love just an illusion, mine?

-It's the only real love. - I stop the movements trying to absorb each one of your words. – Love makes us crazy and all the monstrosities we do for love don't make us monsters just made of meat.

I sigh hard feeling the pain carried by the huge drop that escaped from the corner of my eyes, running away when running down my cheek.

– Let me feel one last time. - He bites his lips

The sight of you so innocently helpless, exposed in all its glory like a sculpture carved from the most precious marble, it's this scene that steals another tear from me, holding your left arm putting my face close enough to yours, feeling the warmth and the aroma of his cigar breath, the tongue tracing all the path made by the tear sipping as if it were the purest drink. I pull away just enough for us to lock eyes.

- I feel like I've gone crazy. – I admit it, even if inside I still don't know how to distinguish whether it's good or bad.

-You were always crazy my love and perfect for me. - I feel the truth in his words, getting swayed, tempted to undo the ties that bind him. - Not. ' I look back at him. - Don't do it, only one of us can get out of here alive after that.

I swallow hard because this is the most painful truth, a knife that cuts my soul and for some twisted reason I love this pain.

"Are you giving up on me?" - I murmur in disbelief.

Your smile opens up huge making your white teeth shine with so much beauty, my piece of the sun that burns my wings.

- We'll meet in hell darling. – I see how the look changes at the same moment. “Don't forget whores have a reserved place to serve there too.

I smirk in satisfaction, it's the truth, that's what I am, a whore and now a bad bitch about to cause carnage, I went back to my movements putting the red ball in her mouth, listening to the whimpers as the words started to hit the open scars inside her soul, her accusations of being a bad wife, of being a whore from a bad family.

The indignity of bearing a Sartori heir.

I get down from the table facing the sea that carries all my pains, the annoyances, and my heart, yes, if I ever had one, I'm left with that man. And even he knows it, as he stops trying to speak to force his best smile even with his mouth open. His gaze carries the satisfaction of knowing he's tattooed on me.

I dance for a moment chanting the music making my low voice reverberate on the walls of my cell, the feeling of pleasure grows, because this time it will only be mine. Mine alone, for all eternity. Without looking at anyone else, because the last look will be mine. I walk around the room, reaching the table and carefully choosing the proof of the monstrosity my love is capable of doing for him.

An infamous joke in which every movement brings out a smile amidst the chaos of blood splattered across the small space that used to be my cell.