contest entries

changing

This was one of my first contest entries and one of my most valued pieces.Redrobin9304 hosted it. The prompt was to tell a story from the villain's point of view and I ended up placing third! I feel so proud of myself!!

~

I ran, not sure of where I was going. Nothing could stop me, as I quickly sprinted out of the city and into the night. Clutching Mark's hand tightly, I led him into a nearby forest, clearly having little to no idea about what to do. We ran deep into the forest, accompanied by bats and other creatures I could only hear.

Finally stumbling upon a small opening, I sat down, placing Mark on my lap. He was a bit heavy for a four-year-old, but it never bothered me. I slowly rocked him, as to aid him to sleep. Trying to catch my breath, I recalled the events that had taken place since the past five months. The events that eventually led to this day.

Five months ago, I was happy. Ecstatic. Because five months ago, I had a fiancé, who I had a child with. That child being Mark. My fiancé was called Jeremiah. He was the light of my life, all that made me the happiest I could be. He was kind, caring, handsome, and above all, he deeply loved me. Or so I thought. I loved him so much, it was impossible to imagine life without him. I had known him for about eight years, his mother having been friends with mine. He was always protective of me. Extremely protective. Especially when my parents died in a car crash.

I was an outcast, then. Always known as the girl who lost her parents at 15. He would lash out at anyone who would whisper in my presence, possibly even punch them if they dared to snap back. It was an action that no one had bothered to perform, for me especially. It made me love him, so I told him. It caused me excessive joy to know that he loved me too. And so, we would always walk the school halls with smiles on our faces, our hands intertwined. We would go on picnics, lie under the cool shade and plan our lives together.

It wasn't until I was 19 and he was 20, that we had Mark. He was an accident, but we decided to keep him. Jeremiah decided to love him and be the father he needs. We were young but mature. We knew we would get a lot of hate due to our decision, but Jeremiah was willing to protect us from it, just as he protected me in high school. And when he proposed, in the moonlight, with a slightly strong wind blowing, I felt ecstatic. I felt my life was perfect, that I could finally live without any sadness or anxiety. I couldn't have been more wrong.

After a long night of preparing for my wedding, I had decided to visit a small café. To relax and relieve myself of all the pressure and tension. I intended to settle down with a captivating book, but instead, my eyes were met with a truly unbelievable sight. The man I had loved, with all my heart, was looking at another young woman. With the same look of adoration he always gave me.

Speechless, I gaped, as he leaned forward to brush her cheek and kiss her gently on the lips, The way he always did with me. As she giggled, he looked in my direction, his smile instantly dropping into a slight frown. His expression shifted into a facade, and I could make out his mouthed words. "I'm not sorry". I threw my ring at him, not caring about the people that were currently staring. I rushed out in a hurry, not daring to even take my book.

Just as I had reached the house I shared with Mark and Jeremiah, I had gotten a text from the latter. Needless to say, it shattered my heart into pieces. It read 'Stay in the house, There's no need to move out. And for the record, I'm taking Mark. Permanently'. Feeling disoriented, I reread the text, over and over again. I raced into the house to find Mark. To find the only thing I'm bent on keeping. Barging into his room, I saw him on his bed-which had been made for some odd reason- with a glum look on his face. There were big suitcases all around him, no doubt filled with all his clothes and possessions. He looked up at me, with tears running down his chubby cheeks.

I pulled him into an embrace and whispered sweet nothings into his ear, trying to calm him down. It all happened much too quickly. I was slowly losing all the light and happiness in my life. Realization hit me, and the moisture in my eyes turned into full-on tears rushing down my face. This was the last time I was going to hold him.

We stayed in this position for the rest of the morning. My body was overcome with cramps, but I didn't dare move. It wasn't until I heard the familiar hum of Jeremiah's Toyota Land Cruiser Prado that I began to frantically cry and tighten my hold on Mark. A few minutes later, after the hum subsided, the door to Marks room was aggressively opened. Jeremiah stepped in, looking at us in sheer disgust. He didn't even utter a word, just took the suitcases downstairs, leaving me to say my last goodbye to my only child. I held his face in my hands, wiping his tears away with my sleeve.

"I want you to be a good little boy, okay? don't get in trouble and don't forget me. I'll always love you. Never forget that". I kissed him on the forehead, resting it against mine. It was peaceful at this moment until I felt him being yanked away from me. Mark screamed and kicked, as Jeremiah carried him over his shoulder. I tried to snatch him back, begging wildly for another chance to be alone with him. I was only met with a grunt and in an instant, the bedroom door was slammed in my face, with excessive force.

All the energy I had before left me, as I slumped to the floor. Four months had passed, and I was scarred, traumatized. I would regress into states of depression and anxiety, and as quickly as these states emerge, I gain a different personality, a different side to my life and experiences. According to my research, I had dissociative identity disorder. I would always feel a new personality emerge, changing my insight on things. Just like how I had wanted to leave Jeremiah and his new fiancée in peace. But, things took a turn. I suddenly wanted revenge.

I planned to leave to their house, which I had found after much-needed investigation. I would leave in the middle of the night, certain all three individuals were asleep, then set the house on fire. Easy. So just more than an hour ago, I set off to the house as planned, carrying containers of kerosene.

I stealthily sneaked in, being met with silence. I dumped the kerosene everywhere, doing a small dance as I did. I was about to take out my matches when I remembered. Mark. He had done nothing wrong if anything he was the only source of my happiness and sanity.

Quietly I went up the stairs, trying to identify which room he would be in. I opened a door to my right, instantly seeing a woman cuddling up to Jeremiah on the bed. They were both sleeping peacefully. It sickened me. I closed the door and went on to open the others. Finally, I stumbled upon his room.

I saw him and rushed to his side, wanting to embrace him and stroke his chestnut curls. I gently shook him, waking him up in an instant. Signaling him to keep quiet, I held his hand and we both went down the stairs again.

Pushing him out the door and far away from the house, I lit the match and threw it as far as I could, up the stairs. It brought a sinister smile to my face, seeing the fire rage through the house. Going out to meet Mark, I held his hand and began to run. And here we are now. Freezing our butts off in the forest.

As I hold the sleeping boy, I look at his innocent face, observing the slight sheen of sweat from all the running. That's when the guilt sinks in. I had killed two people. Burned their house to the ground. Taken away the life of his parents. And I had done it with a smile on my face. I feel the urge to grin but push it down, allowing the severity of my actions to seep in. I think over my actions, coming to a decision.

Kissing Mark's forehead, I whisper "Someone will find you, they'll love you and be your new parents. They'll be better parents than me. But never forget. I'll always love you". Gently, I set him down onto the ground, beginning to walk away from him. Once I think I'm far enough, I take the dagger from my right boot.

I had brought this dagger in case I needed to defend myself, but that's not its purpose now. I spin it listlessly, barely catching its glow in the moonlight. I don't want to be known as the single mother who killed her former fiancé and his partner. Feeling a single tear run down my cheek, I place the point of the blade on my chest, right where my heart is.

Just before I plunge the blade into my heart, I feel that menacing grin appear and spread across my face. I had no regrets, none at all. 

~

MaybLater, this is dedicated to you because I still think your entry deserved my place. 

~Ella💙