torsdag 10. februar 2011

When brain activity ceases:

He hit her. His hand flat out against the side of her face. She wasn't allowed to do this. Not at all, was it even physically possible? Was this perhaps not real, like what he saw was not there, and what he thought simply invalid?
He bend open the fingers on his clenched fist, and stroke a finger on her cheek. The hand started shaking, a freezing wave rushed though him, he felt like crying again, but there was a vacuum in his stomach eating his tears, his thoughts, his very being.
It was real..
And he thought it again: She could not do this to him.
She could not fucking do this to him!
I don't deserve this, I didn't do anything wrong and this i not fair! I loved her!
Rushing through his head, this made every muscle tense. Made him raise his fist again.
He didn't hit this time, but laid his hand on his head.
Hate! That's what he felt for her now, looking into her eyes. She didn't even blink.
He really hated her, and another wave, another climax of these realized feelings rushed through him.
Still, he didn't scream it at her. He didn't say it to her. But he whispered, whispered something else.
I love you.
Two of his fingered closed her eyes, as a tear fell from his. How could she?
They where supposed to live the rest of their life togheter.
She where supposed to live..