He returned home, shoulders dropped and eyes red. His breaths were slow and deep. He looked around for her. “It has to end,” he murmured. There she was, sleeping. He nudged to wake her up.
“She left; didn’t she? You don’t need to tell me. I can see that in your eyes. Yes your eyes. However hard you try to conceal, they never lie.”
She sensed what was going to happen. Even though she tried to stay calm, she was frightened. The love of life grasped her tightly. His facial expressions were inhumane. She prayed and spoke on.
“Nobody knows you better than I do. I’m the secret you managed to hide so well. I never asked for anything in return. Maybe that’s what love is? No demands. Jovial you may seem, I’ve seen the vulnerable you. The nights that were heavy to pass on, we’ve chatted and slept together. The tears that were so many, we’ve cried together. All the tales, we’ve lived it together.
I won’t complain. I had surrendered my soul to you, the day we met. I won’t beg, for that isn’t worth it. I’m all yours,” she said and stopped talking.
He didn’t care. His anger knew no bounds. His teeth shivered as he touched her. And then he lost it.
He scratched, kicked and ripped her apart.
Nobody heard her screams. Her sobs reverberated and faded away. She had no time to recollect herself. She sinked.
He turned around laughing, feeling light as a feather. “Filthy object,” he cursed.
The wood burned slowly in the fireplace. There she lay, motionless. Another victim of emotional outbursts. Probably destiny had set it for her, for ‘the diary’.