BLOODY VALENTINE (An Original Short Story)

She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

I first saw Emily on a Green Day concert a year ago. Even on a simple black band shirt, tattered skinny jeans and a pair of old Chucks, she really stood out. Unfortunately, she didn’t notice me. She was too busy screaming and jumping along with other fans throughout the whole event. So I just stood there on a corner, hidden in a sea of faces – watching, waiting…

After that, I kept seeing her everywhere, even on the most unexpected circumstances. I always make sure to make every instances memorable by giving her pretty red things. Small ones at first, then they became larger than I’ve intended. But I didn’t mind. Those were just sweet gestures to somehow make her think about me. Or make her wonder who I was. In that way maybe, just maybe, I could stand a chance.

One day, I stopped seeing her. I was getting worried sick because as far as I know, she’s always all over the town. But it’s been weeks and I still couldn’t find her. I didn’t know what to do.

I remember the last time I saw her, and she caught me giving her another gift. It was a big one, big enough for her to show off to her friends. I thought she’d like it, but she got mad and started screaming at me. Then she cried so hard that it has become unbearable. So I ran away.

I shouldn’t have ran away.

But just when I was on the verge of giving up, SHE FOUND ME.

It was another lonely Valentine’s Day and I came home a little drunk. The occasion was a bit too much for me, so I thought I could use a few shots. As I was already dying to be with my bed, I saw a figure moving quietly around my room. I was ready to dismiss the sight as the result of my unusually excessive intake when I noticed that it was quite tall, and has a petite, womanly structure. My heart skipped a beat. I walked slowly towards it as it stood perfectly still by the window, it’s back facing me.

That’s when I knew who it was. I couldn’t be mistaken. I would’ve recognized her from five kilometers away. I pinched my arm a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

“Emily”, I blurted out in amusement. I couldn’t hide my joy and excitement – seeing her after many weeks, IN MY BEDROOM! Come on. This is awesome!

She slowly turned to face me, her face blank. Walking towards me, I noticed that she still wore the gifts that I’ve given her – on her fingers, her upper arm, on her left cheek, and even the biggest one, the one that I’ve given her on our last meeting, on her slender neck. I can’t be happier.

She stopped inches away from me, her pallid face still not showing any emotions. “Hey, can I help you? Are you alright?” I asked her. Instead of answering me, she grabbed my guitar from behind her and smashed it against my head. Everything went black.

I woke up the next day with blood all over my body. It was difficult to even move, but with a painful, overwhelming effort, I managed to sit up and examined the causes of my agony.

I discovered severe cuts everywhere. There’s a wound on the back of each palm, a cut on my chest, a deep slash on my cheek, and a wide, gaping cut painted across my neck. I smiled.

That was ten months ago.

Today, I’m getting married to a very special girl. Heck, she’s probably as crazy as me. As she walked down the aisle, I’m becoming more and more convinced that she really is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

I didn’t mind standing in front of the altar for a long time –watching, waiting…

She took my hand without any hesitation, and I can’t imagine myself being with anyone else,

but with Emily – my sweet, bloody Valentine.  

~o~

Hi! Thanks for taking time to read this. Have a good one! :D

Love. Love. Love.