Before I died…
The fire crept further and further—its heat kissing the tips of my toes with a cruel gentleness.
The mere concept of death didn't feel real yesterday—last night, this morning, an hour ago.
Now it's here. Death stares back at me from the heart of the raging flames.
He has come for me in the form of chaos and suffering—damning my hope for a peaceful embrace into his palace of oblivion.
The knife in my abdomen sent overwhelming waves of pain crashing through me like a tsunami. I was left drowning in screams from every frayed nerve in its path.
As each inhale filled my lungs with more smoke, blurry memories played through my mind.
In those flashes, I desperately wanted to see the faces of those I love, my friends, my family. I wanted to drink in the last of our experiences til the happiness quelled my futile will to fight this.
Only...it wasn't my loved ones I saw flickering through my mind.
It was him.
My murderer.
Cam—a man who fell so deeply in love with my sister that he made the dizzying conclusion to kill off anyone that siphoned an ounce of her affection.
He was—and I cannot emphasize this enough—a FUCKING PSYCHOPATH.
That subhuman waste of oxygen spread white hot fury hotter than the raging flames through every inch of my skin.
My greatest regret in this life is not burying a hatchet straight through his pebble-sized brain. Right this moment, I would love nothing more than to cut him up into such tiny pieces that no scientist would ever consider classifying his body as biology.
A disgusting thought dawned on me. This bastard is really going to burn me alive—in my own home—simply because he was rejected?
Something primal and ugly reared its head in the curling depths of my soul. It felt like the lines I'd drawn all my life were being washed away in the torrential storm thundering in my head. I was completely uninterested in right or wrong right now.
The intensity of these new emotions growing wildly in my body made the inevitable seem like merely an obstacle. The certainty of death seemed less certain; it was like raw will alone could pull my fatally wounded body through the flames to drag him down to hell with me.
But alas...this surge of rage and desire to live were futile. After all, I am merely a human that stands no match for the laws of nature.
Although part of me screamed to fight, the more rational part saw the reality and knew what pain awaited. It was ultimately this clarity that drew my shaky hands to hover around the knife jutting from my torso.
Staring at the wound caused a wave of nausea to wash over me amidst the haze of pain.
I remember the look of delight as Cam stared down at my maimed person like an artist admiring his own exquisite painting. The memory almost made me reconsider hurling my body into the flames.
I had briefly considered the thought of waiting til the last moment for rescuers. But the flames were much too close, and my house was tucked away too far for first responders to reach in time.
A faint joyless smile formed weakly on my lips as I steeled my resolve. Trembling as an instinctual fear of pain crept through my hands, I wrapped my fingers around the handle.
I gathered the last of my strength, quickly thrusting my arms up in one brutal motion. I couldn't help a scream from escaping my lips as blood immediately began gushing from the newly opened wound.
The pain was unimaginable and I had to take a minute to recover. My shallow breaths were interrupted by dry coughing from the smoke—shooting pain from my wound at each small movement. I groaned, hoping I'd somehow bleed out before the flames could envelop me.
As blood rushed out at a startling rate, my vision began to blur and my limbs felt uselessly weak.
My lips pitifully pulled up at the feeling of oblivion chasing my consciousness.
If I ever meet that bastard in the next life, I'll be sure to return this favor tenfold.
That was my last thought before stars filled my vision and the world fell to nothing.