Psychotic Love

6.

I wished that dream was real, where I stabbed Tristan right where it would hurt him, but he wouldn't die from it so it would be like torture, just what he does to me.

Crazy.

That's how I feel when I'm around Tristan. He's toxic and he slowly killing me mentally. Everything he does haunts my dreams, and keeps me up at night scanning the room for any danger.

That was my nightly routine. Hide underneath the covers, and peak every once and a while. I always thought that the covers were keep me safe from the voices that seemed to echo in my head. I thought I was just having a bad moment when I could hear them... but they are still there, keeping me weak and pathetic.

He knew how I felt and he enjoyed it, he enjoyed me waking up next to him, my heart pounding against my chest in fear and holding my legs close to my body.

He knew he made me feel worthless, as if I have no reason to be here. He loved every single tear that slid doen my face in anger or sadness. But now I was numb to that.

The dre- well I would call them nightmares that come real, I don't pay attention to them. Every slap and kick I feel, I'm numb to it.

That's what he wanted. He wanted me to feel dead inside, and now I do.

But why do I love him?

It was a question I couldn't even answer myself.

Was it even love?

You don't know what love is and you'll never feel loved!

I closed my eyes tightly, crushing my arms tightly around my legs.

Worthless.

He made me feel that way. I was a happy girl before I met him. I didn't have a perfect life but it made me happy. He ruined everything! My life, my education, my dad, my heart.

A voice in my head would mutter to me that it was my fault he was the way he is. It was my fault that I didnt try and escape as much as possible. That it was my fault he made me go insane, whilst he was psychotic.

But why do I love him?

Because we're no different to each other. I think like him, I talk like him, I even sometimes act like him. I hated it, but I couldn't stop it.

He's ruined you.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, the light from the hallway brightening the room and blinding my eyes. I blinked quickly to reciver my eyes and looked up. "Yes?"

"Get up." He ordered and slammed the door shut, leaving me in the darkness. Something that I enjoyed being in. It calmed me.

I swung my body upwards and sat up on the bed. I rubbed the sleep off my eyes and stood up, I ignored the tight feeling of my muscles from not being stretched.

The cold breeze from the open window brushed against my bare legs and arms, the thin hairs on my arms risen from the sudden cold wind.

I walked out of the bedroom, and looked at the clock.

03:15

I sighed.

This was the normal routine, he would wake me up around this time, make me talk and do whatever until I fell asleep on him. I would wake up in a few hours since I barely sleep. It was just another opportunity to feel my mind with horror visions.

I walked down the stairs until I was in the lounge. He was sitting on the couch, once he heard me walk in he looked up and smiled.

The smile of crazy.

He patted his lap, without saying anything I sat down on his lap gently. Quickly he wrapped his arms around me.

It wasn't comforting. I didn't feel that anymore, all I could feel was just him wrapped around me.

"How was your day?"

"Good." I replied. I leaned into his neck and breathed in his intoxicating smell that I was addicted to.

Why is it that I'm numb to the pain but I still feel how I feel about him?

"Why do you keep me here?" I asked, close to his ear.

He pushed me away slightly so he was able to see me and look me in the eye. "Because we're no different from each other."

That's what I said.

"You're meant to be mine, this is how it was supposed to be."

His reply had me raising an eyebrow, "So me being locked up? Is that how it's meant to be?" I questioned. I was about to remove myself from his lap until his arms tightened around my body painfully.

"No. We're supposed to love each other." He smiled sickly.

I frowned, "I don't love you."

I hoped that one day if I say it enough that it will become true.

Suddenly, he threw me off of him in anger. I painfully landed on my bum, before I could get up a shoe was kicked on my leg.

I winced from the pain. There's going to be a bruise there tomorrow.

"Don't say things you don't mean!" He yelled, he picked me up by my t-shirt. Almost ripping it in half in the process.

"Why are you like this?" Just before his fist could make contact with me, he froze in his position. His hand wrapped round my neck, loose enough for me to breath but tight enough for a warning.

His fist clenched, his knuckles white and no emotion on his face. His eyes didnt have a shine that people's eyes did. They were dull, and for some reason I had a feeling that he has seen a lot of bad things that he hadn't caused.

"1995."

He released his grip on my neck as he dropped to the couch behind him. I raised an eyebrow sitting next to him as if he wasn't about to do his daily beating on me.

"I murdered my parents."

I knew this already. He was remind me whenever I was acting up, it was almost like a warning to say if I don't stop then I'll end up like them.

"I was forced to."

This I did not know. I stayed silent, waiting for him to finish.

"It was early in the morning when I was woken up by my dad shaking me. He told me to hide. I did what he said after arguing with him for s good few minutes. What I didn't know was that in those minutes, my dad could of called the police and they would of been here. But instead, three robbers rushed into my room with my mother tied up."

Normally talking about this, a person would be emotional about this. But he doesn't show once ounce of emotion or tear towards it. It was almost as if he didn't care.

"They forced a gun in my hand, and said if I don't shoot then they will be tortured and killed painfully and slowly. I did what they said."

He continued, "I didn't feel guilty or sick. I almost felt relieved. But then one of the intruders took of their mask, it was a female. She was beautiful, flawless skin and face. I was young but I felt some sort of connection towards her. "

"She looked just like you."

I cleared my throat softly, but before I could open my mouth I was stopped.

"She haunted my dreams for the rest of my life." He looked up from the floor to my eyes. "This is why I'm never letting you go."

He placed a cold hand on my cheek, "Never." He repeated.

"I just hope that I won't kill you like I did with that girl who broke into my home." He dropped his head, and tilted his head to the side.

He stood up from the couch, "She will be dearly missed." He spat.

Was I surprised that hes killed more people without me noticing? No. I was used to this, when I first came I felt ashamed and disgusted to be even near this man, no, this monster.

But this monster is just a psychotic, broken man inside with too many scars to be healed.

***