Across my side it stretched...down to my hip. The bandage wasn't large enough.. So, I covered it with paper towels and tape.
Pink oozed from the sides but No time to worry.. I threw on my tank top and black sweat shirt. Zipped and pulled the hood to cover my hair and shadow my face...
flung open the bathroom door.. and on the sofa I returned.
"I wanted to tell you.. but I didn't know how.. I know your angry and should be, I promise it won't happen again.."
I listened too intently that my side ached extensively.. My hard lips burned. My elbows itched. My pants grew uncomfortable and hurt between my legs.
"I'm sorry.. It just happened. You know I love you.. I guess I drank too much. I just got carried away." He said.
"Umph" I grimaced, while biting my lower lip. Uneasy and anxious, I rocked, holding my side. It ached so bad.. I could feel the dampness enter my sweatshirt.
The pain began to grow unbearable. I clutched my wound to hold it together..discreetly so he wouldn't notice.
He continued on and on.
His voice stuttered, mumbled, and fumbled over what soon sounded liked gibberish.
I searched desperately for answers and comfort within his words...but found none.
My thoughts became unclear and disoriented.
My body became weak and faint.
Feeling my drift.. I leaned further back onto the couch...
I ached all-over and I felt nauseous. I licked my lips and quietly asked "So, your telling me...that you slept with her? Right?"
He looked confused and dazed. "Umm. Yeah. Babe, that's what we've been talking about for over an hour."
He reached for me..and solemnly asked "Are you okay?"
Shaken.. I dodged his gesture.. My skin grew hot.. but my insides icy.
With rocky, trembling fingers I unzipped my hoodie and revealed my leaky top. The soiled bandages fell to the floor..
Gently over my head, I pulled the bloody shirt..revealing a silver curve that rose from my chest.
I reached my arm around my shoulder and neck, grabbed the handle, and snugly pulled. With one swift flip, the blade boomeranged from my back and straight into his Mother-fucking forehead..
In front of me, on the coffee table, he sat..still wide-legged and doe eyed with a meat cutter sticking out of his head.
Instantly.. I was healed! I leaped from the sofa and peered on him.. In my pretty, pink, Converse Chuck's, I kicked him in his chest and watched him topple to the floor.
Mumbling..in my own "gibberish".. and tugging him along.. "Now.. NOW.. you get carried away." I got your "Carried Away".. Carried away so you fuck her? No sir (while vigorously shaking my head).. NOW, you get carried away..
You idiot.
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