I was racing through the darkened street, not recognizing anything, not seeing a soul, and I wondered if I was in one of the sleeping towns used in a ghost-ridden blockbuster movie. My heart was pounding so furiously it hurt from the exertion, but I couldn't stop. Stopping would mean getting caught by the ferocious monster trying to eliminate me. I knocked from door to door, but no one was willing to help a stranger, and I knew from the unsympathetic looks thrown at me that I was in trouble. I was alone in a wicked town, and no one would intercede on my behalf. I would have to save myself from my demonic ex.
She was trying to punish me, hunting me like a foolish prey who didn't know how to escape but tried anyway. There was just no way I would give her the satisfaction of gutting my life like a useless animal. I would fight until I couldn't fight anymore. I pushed my legs further, biting my tongue to keep any sound from escaping. I would make her suffer too; if she wanted to catch me, then she would have to put in the legwork. I glanced right and left, looking over my shoulders in fright. I could see a cornfield ahead, and it brought me immense relief, as it was exactly what I needed to camouflage my presence from my hateful ex. It would serve as the perfect maze to entrap Cara in. Cara, an innocent-looking girl on campus, who I fell in love with at first sight. She became my tutor in statistics when I found myself struggling. Everything should have been easy, but it wasn't. I made a mistake of falling under her delicate charms, thinking I had found the one; a girl who understood me, who saw me, and appreciated my efforts in turning the shitty hand life threw into gold. I thought she loved me, and wanted to build an empire with me. But no, she turned my life upside down and became my worst nightmare. Cara didn't know how to love; what she professed to feel was twisted and on the thin edge of obsession. Cara became something hideous, her innocent facade falling off like nightfall, and I became her target in a sick game of love and possession. Her pool of madness didn't start immediately; it was a slow tide that built up into a typhoon that now threatened my life, my world, and everything I had strived so hard to endeavor.
Pushing my body to the limit in a race for the cornfield, my mind took a sudden trip down memory lane, to the period when I started noticing the alarming changes in her. I always found Cara shadowing my every movement on campus; I barely had time for myself. She was always popping up in places, spying on me and interfering in my affairs. She attacked any girl she saw me with, lashing out at them before realizing belatedly that her jealousy was misplaced. She took possessiveness to a whole sick level and made me an alien who no girl wanted to relate to. That wasn't even the worst of it; one time, Cara attacked my mum from behind when she hugged me, almost giving me a heart attack. I knew then she wasn't the kind of lady I needed in my life. Cara was a loose nut that needed to be hinged. She needed to be tamed, but I wasn't the man for the job. I was beyond my limit and only wanted to breathe. I needed space away from her insanity to keep me grounded.
I gave her numerous opportunities to change, to be the girl I wanted, to trust in me and the love I offered, to not doubt my actions and suspect everything I did. I gave her the privilege to repent and change from her suffocating way of loving, but she threw them all away, tossed my goodwill and efforts in my face. She became stuck in her ways and became abusive in her fits of anger. I couldn't take it anymore and called it quits, and it seemed to be the bomb that blew everything out of proportion. She became a raging psychopath whose only purpose was to send me into hell, and no, I'm not being dramatic here. I know I'm partially responsible for my current situation; I probably shouldn't have broken up with her over the phone with some roughly crafted words. But what could I have done? I was scared of my unstable ex. I was scared of her volatile reaction and wanted to contain it as far away from me as possible. But I was foolish, as I soon realized, it didn't take long for her to hunt me down and humiliate me before my teammates and friends. I still couldn't believe she did that. She tracked me to the football field while I was playing a friendly match with my teammates against another college team. It had been an important match with scouts scenting the air for new talents. She managed to stall the match by jumping onto the field to confront me.
"What the hell are you doing?" I screamed at her as she threw rotten eggs on me, angry at the scene she was creating.
"What's this?" she shoved the text I sent her in my face, throwing my teammates into an uproar at the interruption. "Do you think it's going to be that easy to get rid of me? I'm not one of your cheap floozies you can use and dump at will! It's not over yet, do you hear me? I'm not done with you! We're not done! I will never leave you!"
"Cara, you can't force me to be with you. I don't want you, anymore. You're a psychopath who ruins everything she touches! Love is not by force!" I screamed at her as the security finally grabbed and carried her away.
"We will see about that! I will show you how psychotic I can be! You will eat your words and beg for my forgiveness soon! I will make you pay! I swear it! You will see!" she kept yelling obscenities at me, turning everyone's anger to pity for me. I preferred their anger. I was so pissed I wanted to hit something so bad. I didn't realize when a tear escaped my eyes. I was so furious at myself and hoped Cara's crazy performance hadn't ruined my future. I could only hope as I tried to focus on the game. But things hadn't been the same since then; it spiraled out of control for me, and I was suspended from the team for misconduct. My life was messed up, and my only shot out of poverty was tainted, up to a rocky start, and I don't know if I will get another shot. I was so heartbroken and didn't know how to dig myself out of the mess my life had become. I didn't want to disappoint my mum, who sacrificed a lot to get me to my current position, but I couldn't contain my demons; they were all over the place, threatening my equilibrium, and Cara didn't make it easy for me either. She kept stalking me, intensifying her obsession to an appalling level. She showed up at every occasion I attended and watched me. She never approached me but pinned me down with her angry glare, letting me know she was watching and making it difficult to report her to the police. It was ingratiating, and I felt like prey being hunted by a sociopathic predator. I was spooked and always looking over my shoulders, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. My peace became a thing of the past as I was drawn into a game of cat and mouse. I was slowly losing my mind and everything good in my life.
I tried to lock myself in, but she made my room a suffocating cage, as she kept blowing up my phone with calls. Ignoring her calls only made her call more, destroying the peaceful ambiance of my room. When I ended up picking up, she said nothing but breathed down the line at me. Then came threatening notes written with red lipstick, just four words that resonated through me and left a chill in my bones, 'you're dead meat.' I realized then I was trapped in a blazing hell, and might burn to ashes if I didn't run. So, I packed my stuff and moved out in the middle of the night. Little did I know I was walking into the very hell I was trying to escape. Frantically, with furtive glances over my shoulders, I got into the car I borrowed from my friend and roommate and set out to the destination he gave me. My friend, Logan, was from money, and he was aware of my situation. He wanted me to go to the police instead of running, but I had no tangible proofs that would support my accusations. It would be my word against hers, and I knew how manipulative she was. Cara would have the authorities eating out of her hands. So it was better I go off the grid for a while to give her the time to forget me. I didn't even mind repeating a semester if it came to that; I was that desperate to escape. So I accepted Logan's help and headed out to his family's summer house in the cloak of darkness. However, my plan was once again derailed by my ex, who was ten steps ahead of me. I didn't know how, but she knew about my plans and jumped me in the car. She pointed a sharp knife at my side and asked me to drive. Painful tears filled my eyes as my heart soared with panic, my body filling with frustration, and I felt my hopes of freedom dash before me.
"Running off somewhere, honey?" she whispered into the tiny space between us, making me squirm in disgust. This was one thing I hated about fast cars; they left little room to navigate. I didn't want her breath on me, but was trapped. "I said, drive," she seethed, poking me with the knife in warning. I did as she said, not wanting to antagonize her further. We drove for what seemed like eternity before we reached what appeared to be a ghostly abandoned town from a Hollywood movie. There was no soul in sight, and the houses had no lights, which increased my misgivings. She asked me to stop before a lone derelict building that called out to my sense of doom. Desperation, steep and furious, clogged at my chest, and I knew I had to escape or risk burning in a bloody pit created by Cara. So I jumped her the moment I exited the car and fought her for the knife. In swift movements that belied her puny form, she disarmed my moves and hit me square in the groin, sending me down to the floor in a well of pain.
Where did she learn to kick like that?
I groaned aloud as I tried to swim through the pain. She was going to be the death of me. "Pull that little stunt with me again and I slit your throat." I heard her warning, but I knew doing nothing was going to be suicide. I knew not what sick plot she was cooking, but I wanted no part of it. I knew it would spell trouble for me; stepping into that godforsaken house would be the end for me. So I must swallow my pain and bolt. "There's no escape for you, Curtis. Tonight is penance day. You're gonna rot and wilt away painfully in the cell I created for you. No one will find you here. Your life is mine," she spared me a wicked smile before focusing on opening the aged door. I sucked everything in, gathered my strength, and bolted. I ran like my life depended on it. If the situation wasn't so dire, I would have laughed at the picture I created of a man fleeing from a deadly woman. I was supposed to be strong, and it should have been easy to overcome her, but no, the little taste I had of her insanity didn't quite boost my courage. Now I futilely begged for help from door to door, running down the deserted streets towards what seemed like salvation or a chance to hide. I could almost taste freedom when I viewed the cornfield drawing closer. Just a step more and I would be free. I jutted forward, my footing losing balance as I collided face-first on the granite floor. I saw stars as I tried to find my bearings. My crazy ex had hit me on the head. My senses started to whirl like a merry-go-round as she grabbed my feet and started to drag me on the hard ground. I was going to get bruises for her effort come morning. She started to whistle, and her devilish tone dragged me under.
When I recovered my consciousness, I was in a small cage like a rabid dog, unable to stand to my full height or move around. I was stuck like a puppet, my wicked ex was my puppeteer.
"You're finally awake, how do you find your new home?" she asked, but I refused to bite. "Do you regret leaving me now? You're gonna be in there for a long time." I didn't reply, saving my energy for plotting a way out. Days passed before I forged a good plan. I pretended to be dead, which wasn't hard as she mostly starved me. I was so dehydrated and smelled like my excrement; it wasn't hard to look the part. When she finally opened up the cage to check on my still form, I stabbed her right in the neck with a fork I discreetly confiscated. I guessed she wasn't as smart as she portrayed. She stared at me with shock in her eyes as blood spurted out of the wound. I watched her die and felt no ounce of remorse about it; my humanity seemed to have taken a back seat to her cruelty. I pushed her body aside and crawled out of the cage. I was barely on my feet when Logan burst through the door with some cops in tow, saying he tracked his car when he didn't hear from me. I have never felt so relieved to see someone. I collapsed into his arms and recounted my experience. I revealed how she stalked, kidnapped, and held me hostage, including how she starved and treated me like a beast. I had to stab her to escape, I informed them. In the end, her death was ruled as self-defense, and my story became a warning to others who see the early signs of abuse in a relationship but ignore it. Caution was better than regret.
Merci pour la lecture!
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