Short Story 4- Unedited

Eyes of Fury

My heart skipped two beats, an indication that the phone is ringing again.  The vibration shoots through my entire body like an electrical current.  I cannot bring myself to look at the caller ID; I know that it is him without looking.  I am shaking with fear as I try to curl up in the corner as far away from the phone as possible.  

Periodically light flashes through the traitorous windows that show my every move.  The rain has been nonstop for three days now, and for seventeen hours the power has been out.  The plan is going to work because everything is lined up, what is left now is that he just has to follow through with his threats that have been keeping me on high alert for a long time.  

The sound of the phone once again jump-starts me forcing the process of calming myself to start over.  The torture of the unknown is worse than what is going to happen to me, and all I can think of is how I could have prevented this.  I could have told someone, anyone, even my parents about him and this would not be happening.  No one knows where I am, I do not even know where I am.  I tried using the phone to call for help, but as soon as it started ringing he picked up, as if the phone’s sole purpose was only to contact it’s twin.    

The rain is picking up, making it harder for me to hear any outside movement, any indication that he has returned.  Maybe if I act fast I could solve this; if only the power was on so I could see what I was roaming around in.  The task is simple, find the medication and wait for him to come near, once he is close enough all I have to do is stab him with the needle and his attack will be over.   It is quite amusing to me that only I could manage to fall in love with someone who has an uncontrolled bipolar disorder that emerges from constant deep emotions, but then again I might just have the worst luck in the world.  The medication will snap him back into reality, and at the same time it will save my life.  I know deep down in him he still loves me, and I know that my willingness to forgive him for everything has brought me to this point, but I don’t have time to think about it now I have to act quickly.  

I stand, more like wobble to my feet, and use the wall as a guide.  I remember that he put his luggage next the bedroom door, and in there I will find his medication.  My heart is pounding in my chest so loud that I cannot hear anything except the fast rhythm.  My shaking hand reaches the opening that leads to the hallway where I pause to regain my strength.  The strategy forming in my head is to build up my energy and dash towards the bedroom door without caring if I make any noise or not, all I need is the courage to make it to the door and then instinct combined with adrenaline will take over from there.

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath while pushing off the wall with my fingers to bolt for the door.  Immediately I slam into a solid, wet mass and let out a blood curdling scream.  He is back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he stated in a  deadly voice while he crushed my body against his.

  My fear has boiled over and turned into useless cries for help.  My body crumbles to the floor when he lets go of me.  Pain all of a sudden consumes my head, and then I realize he has hit me.  Blood is streaming down from the gash as I prepare myself for the next blow.  This one comes at my ribs, and I am sure something cracked.  My screaming has not stopped, and it is combined with desperate pleas.  After several strikes he decides it is enough for now. 

Again, he is shouting unintelligible words as I crunch further into the wall for protection.  Every move I make I realize how much damage there is to my weak body.  For just a second, he stops shouting and I turn to him.  I thought it was impossible, but the look in his eyes made my fear intensify by more than a thousand; the look is absolutely murderous.  

Reaching for an object in his back pocket his faces turns into a slight grin.  My heart drops, and I knew I this was the last chance to make my move.  Forgetting all of the pain I make a run for the bedroom door.  Surprisingly he did not follow me, but his chuckle echoed through the walls.  I found his suitcase.  As fast as I possibly could I searched the many pockets for the syringe.  His footsteps were getting closer, and he was all of a sudden right behind me.  I froze once I saw a shining silver object caught the corner of my swollen eye; he was holding a knife.  Again, my whimpering and pleading did not seem to phase him one bit.  

“Stand up!” he yelled, and I carefully stood up with my back towards him.  He shoved me onto the mattress, and my bones snapped in protest.  Sharp screams uttered from my dry lips, and he raised the knife towards.  Trying to bury myself with the covers did not help, and as if in slow motion the knife soured towards my face.  Instinctively, I brought my hand up just in time for the blade to pierce it.  My hand went numb, and then the agonizing pain surfaced.  I do not know how, but I kicked him with all of the strength left in my body, forcing the blade now into my foot, and at the same time he fell backwards onto the suitcase.  I grabbed the knife from foot and tried to stand, but crumbled from the pain.  A few seconds went by and he was on his knees. 

The power suddenly came on, and I saw his face.  His eyes were empty as they bore into mine.  I looked down at his leg, where the needle was sticking into.  

His faced snapped back, and then he saw what he had down.  Quickly he stood up, and from the sudden motion a scream came from my lips.  A look of utmost terror crossed his face as he slowly moved towards me.  I tried to move back, but found myself unable to because of the pain.  Tears were coming down faster on my face, and he stopped in front of me and bent down to his knees again.  The medication had worked, because now tears were evident on his cheeks, tears of the realization what had happened.  His puppy-dog eyes looked up at mine, and I knew that he was him again, he was the person that I loved.  

After apologizing over and over again to the point of hysteria, he reached for his back pocket to take out his phone.  Within twenty minutes the police arrived along with an ambulance.  The man rushed inside and took in the scene, knowing clearly what had happened.  I managed to stand in the hallway to watch as my love went up to the police officer and ordered for the man to arrest him.  He stared back at me with a look that I will never forget, and this was the last time I ever saw his eyes again.