The douchebag.

Nightmares and gunshots...

The gunshot in the distance felt like it had been fired at her. As if the bullet had torn the delicate layers of her skin and right into her heart. It had felt like…last year again. She closed her eyes shut tightly,trying to block out the sirens and burrowed further into her comforter. She wanted to run, far enough so that it was all a bitter memory and nothing more. Where the littlest of things triggering the worst nightmare of her 19 years of existence wouldn’t make her lose her shit all the freaking time. She was tired of those stupid panic attacks that gripped here anywhere, the streets, the local cafe while trying to enjoy the morning coffee, the garage she worked at…she was tired. She wanted rest. Her mind needed rest. God knew, it had been too long since it was quiet for even a couple of seconds in there.
The knock on the door ported her back to that night she wanted to escape so badly, but never could. That terrifying storm. The drunk douchebag her mother had brought home. The douchebag young enough to be her older brother. The douchebag who had eyed her all night long during that pathetic excuse for a “family dinner”. The douchebag who had invited himself to stay over because he wanted to spend more time with her mother and her family. The douchebag who had tried to grab her when her mother had turned in for the night. The douchebag who had slapped her so hard when she tried to walk away that the blood had rushed inside her ears. The douchebag who had pulled that 9 millimeter on her and threatened to shoot her mother if she didn’t concede. The same sorry douchebag she had kicked in the balls and grabbed that gun from, trying to stop her hands from shaking and aiming right. The same bloody douchebag who had jumped at her, and in the fight, had grabbed onto the gun. The same douchebag who had died that night. The same douchebag she had killed. The same one whose blood and gore had coated her body like a second skin, the feel of which she had never been able to scrub off, no matter how searing hot showers she took over the year. The same douchebag who had ruined her relationship with her mother when she wasn’t ready to accept in her heavily drunk state that her douchebag boyfriend she had claimed to love was that huge an arsehole. The exact same one who had ruined her life. That one.
She snapped out of it when the insistent knocking was accompanied by a police officer asking her to come out. She walked slowly and snapped the bolts. The sight that met her eyes threatened to transport her back to that nightmarish sight. Police vehicles with sirens blaring, ambulance, people all around…it was too much to take but she slipped on that mask she had perfected over the year to give nothing away and calmly asked how she could help. The police wanted a statement. Again. She started talking.



30 thoughts on “The douchebag.

      1. Well , It was awesome but when I started thinking about it in a more deeper way the I realized that how a single event can devastate our lives irrespective of the people we are with , irrespective of the fact whether they are bad people or the people we love . It’s really sad that the people whom we care about don’t want to see our face anymore due to that single disastrous event . In this case , she lost his mother emotionally because even if she is there with her , she might not believe her with what actually happened

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Wow seems to be the common theme here…& I’m of a similar mind. I was moved by your contribution here, because as I read it…I could see it happening (in my mind’s eye) & couldn’t begin to imagine the mired of emotions that tumbled forth! Although I HATE the circumstances that caused you write this…as a former victim of violence myself…I applaud you & your superb writing style!!!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Then my work is done,if you could imagine it happening and feel at the same time.:)
      I am, fortunately, not a victim. It’s all fiction,like most of my writings are. So, that.:)
      Thank you so much for the sweet words, by the way. :*


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s