Read Online Conflicted (Secrets and Lies) by M. M. Koenig - Free Book Online
Authors: M. M. Koenig
Tags: Fiction
Ads: Link
he's sleeping and that's why he's not answering. He never ignores my phone calls. I need his soothing voice.
As I pull up, our apartment is pitch black. I exit my car and go into the building. I unlock the front entrance and head to the elevators. Fortunately, it's empty when I get in and hit twelve. Once the doors shut, I let go to the aching sobs. The elevator makes its way to our floor. I step out in a fog and turn right towards our apartment. I open the door and my world crashes again.
Our apartment is a mess. There's stuff thrown everywhere. I don't understand. I can't even think. After taking a more careful assessment of my surroundings, I begin to see everything around me more clearly. I'm staring at an apartment of only my belongings. Then it hits me and it feels like a knife twisting sharply to ensure that every part of me shreds to pieces. He's the one that set me up. He's the only person that has access to my usernames and passwords.
I continue surveying the apartment still unable to believe that his stuff is gone. No, maybe this is a robbery. I might be missing some of my own stuff. I'm trying to convince myself that I'm imagining it. This whole night is a nightmare and I'll wake up any minute now. I pinch myself to prove that theory. I'm only welcomed with more pain and it's physical this time.
I walk in circles like a crazy person. I notice my laptop sitting on the edge of our bed. It's open and exposes what he had gone in there to retrieve. It still doesn't make sense to me but it's clear one way or another that he is involved in what happened to me this evening. Why? My heart and mind beg for answers - for anything - only to hear painful silence.
The masochist in me carries my legs to the closet. Sure enough, all his clothes are gone. We may have had our fights. We didn't always agree about my passion for journalism but it's nothing that would result in this turn of events. Unwilling to stare at the reality in front of me any longer, I go to the kitchen to find the tequila. I grab a tall glass and fill it to the top. I down it in two gulps.
The compression in my chest spreads into my entire body. My heart starts to break. It shatters into a million pieces and falls into the universe. I want to cry but I can't. Instead, I find myself struggling to breathe as my grip on reality starts to separate me from the present. My airway tightens and I start to rasp. My brain starts to shut down. Remembering to breathe is becoming an effort of will on my part. I try putting together a solid thought but everything buzzes along with nothing staying long enough to be coherent. I'm bit by bit detaching from my body. Waves of pain go through me like ice and I begin to feel numb.
I hope to feel something from the alcohol. Even that runs through me without feeling - not even a burn of the throat. I can't comprehend how someone that's supposed to love me could do this to me. He promised to love and protect me forever. I pour another glass and then another and then another until I lose count. The room and reality start to slip from me as my body finally shuts down. I don't feel my knees crash to the floor or slipping into the blackness - welcoming it - wanting to be anywhere but where I am. The last thing I feel is the unbearable pain in my chest. It's pulling me so far down that I don't know if I'll ever see the light of day again. I don't care if I ever do.
I awoke in a panic with my breaths in spurts. I hated when I dreamt about it. My fucking subconscious occasionally betrayed me. It was bad enough living through it the first time. It was even more painful when trapped in it. I had no ability to force myself awake until the end. Every ounce of pain sliced through me leaving an unbearable agony as it did that night.
I ran my hands against my damp tank top before clutching the comforter in despair. The hopelessness resurfaced like an old friend and made the numbness I usually felt the best feeling imaginable. I fell back
As I pull up, our apartment is pitch black. I exit my car and go into the building. I unlock the front entrance and head to the elevators. Fortunately, it's empty when I get in and hit twelve. Once the doors shut, I let go to the aching sobs. The elevator makes its way to our floor. I step out in a fog and turn right towards our apartment. I open the door and my world crashes again.
Our apartment is a mess. There's stuff thrown everywhere. I don't understand. I can't even think. After taking a more careful assessment of my surroundings, I begin to see everything around me more clearly. I'm staring at an apartment of only my belongings. Then it hits me and it feels like a knife twisting sharply to ensure that every part of me shreds to pieces. He's the one that set me up. He's the only person that has access to my usernames and passwords.
I continue surveying the apartment still unable to believe that his stuff is gone. No, maybe this is a robbery. I might be missing some of my own stuff. I'm trying to convince myself that I'm imagining it. This whole night is a nightmare and I'll wake up any minute now. I pinch myself to prove that theory. I'm only welcomed with more pain and it's physical this time.
I walk in circles like a crazy person. I notice my laptop sitting on the edge of our bed. It's open and exposes what he had gone in there to retrieve. It still doesn't make sense to me but it's clear one way or another that he is involved in what happened to me this evening. Why? My heart and mind beg for answers - for anything - only to hear painful silence.
The masochist in me carries my legs to the closet. Sure enough, all his clothes are gone. We may have had our fights. We didn't always agree about my passion for journalism but it's nothing that would result in this turn of events. Unwilling to stare at the reality in front of me any longer, I go to the kitchen to find the tequila. I grab a tall glass and fill it to the top. I down it in two gulps.
The compression in my chest spreads into my entire body. My heart starts to break. It shatters into a million pieces and falls into the universe. I want to cry but I can't. Instead, I find myself struggling to breathe as my grip on reality starts to separate me from the present. My airway tightens and I start to rasp. My brain starts to shut down. Remembering to breathe is becoming an effort of will on my part. I try putting together a solid thought but everything buzzes along with nothing staying long enough to be coherent. I'm bit by bit detaching from my body. Waves of pain go through me like ice and I begin to feel numb.
I hope to feel something from the alcohol. Even that runs through me without feeling - not even a burn of the throat. I can't comprehend how someone that's supposed to love me could do this to me. He promised to love and protect me forever. I pour another glass and then another and then another until I lose count. The room and reality start to slip from me as my body finally shuts down. I don't feel my knees crash to the floor or slipping into the blackness - welcoming it - wanting to be anywhere but where I am. The last thing I feel is the unbearable pain in my chest. It's pulling me so far down that I don't know if I'll ever see the light of day again. I don't care if I ever do.
I awoke in a panic with my breaths in spurts. I hated when I dreamt about it. My fucking subconscious occasionally betrayed me. It was bad enough living through it the first time. It was even more painful when trapped in it. I had no ability to force myself awake until the end. Every ounce of pain sliced through me leaving an unbearable agony as it did that night.
I ran my hands against my damp tank top before clutching the comforter in despair. The hopelessness resurfaced like an old friend and made the numbness I usually felt the best feeling imaginable. I fell back
Similar Books
