She sat alone, contemplating why she was even waiting for her deadbeat boyfriend to meet her at the rundown little coffee shop on the bad side of town. Sure, they had met at this coffee shop, but that didn’t mean that they had to spend all their time together in public there. She glanced up from her cold coffee, catching her reflection in the graffitied window to her left.
Her eyes were sunken in and rimmed with dark bags. Her light brown hair was overly windblown and array. She let out a small sigh as she ran her long, fragile fingers repeatedly through her just above shoulder-length mane in a tired attempt to tame it. As she brushed her hair to the side, uncovering her long, slender and pale neck, her dull brown eyes drifted over the bruises and hickies left from her abusive, too-rough of a boyfriend. She had asked him to be gentler, even refusing him the sex that she longed to escape from, but that had only earned her more bruises and beatings.
She tugged gently at the end of her hoodies sleeve, covering her bruised and battered arms from the spying eyes of the shady people passing by. Her friends, not that she had many left, had all warned her that her boyfriend was nothing but trouble and would only land her in the hospital if she stayed with him. She had denied the abuse, even fabricating stories of romantic deeds that he had done for her, such as picking her flowers or bringing her chocolates from her favorite shop on Westburrow street.
Her life was nothing but forgotten love and abuse, fake smiles and bloody noses, restless nights and weeping eyes, lies, lies and more lies. But that was about to change. The tired, broken, depressed girl was about to change her life for the better. She was going to stand up for herself and escape from the years of beatings, rape and feared memories.
She was snapped out of her terrified trance when the door chimed, signaling that her tyrant of a “lover” had arrived. It was show-time. She watched his reflection as he looked around the small, dusty room and grimaced as his eyes landed on her hunched figure. He strutted over, grabbed her arm and forced her to stand. He smirked as she flinched away from him and he brought his calloused hand up to the back of her neck. He leaned in and pushed her head forward, causing his slimy, chapped lips to meet her own soft, delicate ones in a hurried battle that she was losing.
“Were you waiting long, my little angel?” He spat out his pet name for her while he pulled away, as if it were an insult to be called one of Gods trusted helpers.
She slowly shook her head “no” and inched away from her loveless partners putrid breath. He laughed and pushed her back into the booth, sitting down across from her quickly.
“So why did you want to meet me here, my darling dearest?” He leaned in slowly, a wicked smile growing quickly on his unshaved, filthy face. She stared quietly at his white, yet crooked teeth and nodded absentmindedly, thinking of how she would rid herself of him once and for all.
“I… I think that I-it’s time that y-”
“It’s time that I what, honeysuckle?” His eyes grew angry, and a wave of fear flooded into her body, causing her to shake slightly and look down at the table.
“It’s time that you… That you…” She looked up, confidence filling her gaze. She didn’t bother to hide her trembles of excitement, letting him confuse them with her shaking in fear of him. She stood up lightly, balancing precariously on her toes. “That you get the hell out of my life. I don’t need you anymore, and I want you to stay the hell away from me!” She was shouting, not caring about the attention that she drew to them. His look of confusion swiftly turned into one of displeasure as he came to the realization of what she was saying.
“You bitch! How dare you?! After all I’ve done for you?! This is how you repay me?!” He stood up and slammed his thick hands on the small table, causing her chilled beverage to spill over the sides of its chipped cup and onto the dirty surface.
She stepped out of the booth and into the main dining area, clenching her fists into balls of anger, barely keeping her cool. Her eyes remained fixated on her abuser, staring coldly at him.
“You have done nothing but hurt me since the first week that we were together. You have used me and hurt me for the last fucking time.” Quickly, she reached into her hoodies pocket and pulled out a .44 Magnum revolver. “I am way past tired of taking your shit. There’s no fucking way that I am ever letting you even so much as touch me again! There’s no fucking way that I am letting you leave this place alive.”
Her shaking finger pulled back on the hair-trigger of the handgun, having pointed it at her horrified preys chest only seconds before. The impact of the bullet blew him back, launching him into the oblivious gum-chewing waitress. His face contorted in pain as blood swelled and pumped out of his fresh wound. A tortured howl squirmed out of his thick lips shortly before crimson liquid bubbled out in hot pursuit.
She saw nothing but his falling body, watching silently as he hit the ground in a spasm of pain and confusion. A genuine, but twisted smile grew on her face for the first time in a long time. She heard a high-pitched fit of laughter escape from her thin, grinning lips as she turned the gun on herself. She looked down at the corpse of her boyfriend, cackling with glee as his blood washed over her shoes and the life-force ebbed out of his dark blue eyes.
“I told you…” She sang, stepping away from his body and closing her eyes. The smile faded away from her slim, defined face and she flicked her bright eyes open once more. Her brown orbs gazed somberly into those of the screaming, blood-covered waitress who was knocked to the ground from the impact of her prey’s empty shell. “There was no fucking way…”
She pulled the trigger and dropped to the ground, a mad grin settling permanently on her contorted face. The sirens of the speeding police car were the last things she could hear as her brain splattered dripping patterns on the booths and dirty walls of the rundown little coffee shop on the bad side of town…