FicWad

Click. He shuts the door behind him so I can't see what's going on. I already know what's going to happen; it's the same every time but I can't stand to watch it. I can't stand to know. I can hear voices and muffled laughter. Two loud bangs and a scream. And then it's all over. The door bursts open and he walks out, his hands painted in red and a sick, twisted smile playing on his face. He nods at me and I hand him the black bag sitting on the floor beside me. It has bleach and amonia and various other chemicals in it. No, he doesn't intend to clean up the mess, he just wants to make sure he doesn't leave behind a trail. He's never been caught. He leans down to pick up the bag and I draw my knees to my chest and hug them. I watch the back of his head and try not to look past his black shiny hair into the room.
But I can't help it. Curiosity is a cruel bitch and she charms me into looking every single time. I shudder as I see the twisted bodies and the blood. I think the same things I think every single time. I still don't understand why I'm here, or why I still love him. I mean, he's sick. Demeted. There's something wrong with him. But every time he looks at me and I look back into his hazel eyes and he tells me he loves me, I know I can't leave him. I have to be here, it's my fate.
"Gerard...hey, there's a car pulling up outside...hey come on! I'm getting nervous!" I cry and he wipes the light switch with a rag most likely soaked in bleach. He stuffs the supplies back into the bag and grabs my arm as he hurries past me.
"Come on." He is walking toward the front entrance, and just when I think he's completely lost it and is going to walk right out into the open and get caught, he stops and I slam into him. He thrusts the bag at me and begins working quickly to pull the ladder down to the attic. I hadn't noticed it before. I can hear footsteps coming up the steps outside now, and I'm starting to shake. Suddenly, I'm lifted into the air. I grab onto the ladder and climb the last two steps into the attic and settle myself to the left as Gerard follows and hops to the right. The front door swings open just as he pulls the ladder back into the attic, engulfing us in darkness. Relief mixed with anxiety floods my body. I can hear him breathing, slowly and calmly, as if nothing happened. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to think of what's going on. I hope the time will pass faster. I listen to the screaming and the frantic footsteps. I imagine how it must feel.... It seems like hours are crawling by....
"Shay." I feel his hand on my shoulder, shaking me, and his voice is gentle. I open my eyes only to see nothing. "We can go now, but we need to hurry. The lady that came in ran across the street to call the police. She's afraid we're still here," Gerard laughs. He always thinks it's funny, and I have yet to understand how his mind works. I've never questioned him though. He has always been so sweet and gentle to me. I don't know what makes me special. I sigh and he lets down the ladder and jumps down after it.
"Jump, I'll catch you! Oh, and throw the bag down," he says, excitement thick in his words. I throw the bag and then myself down, and I land in his arms. He's so strong. It's a quality that has always turned me on, and he knows this. He looks into my eyes for a quick second, lust playing in his expression, and then suddenly I am on the floor and he is pulling me along, down the hall, left, stairs, basement, and I'm being shoved out a tiny window and he's squeezing out behind me. I have the black bag in my hands, and we are running again. Into the thick forest, hoping to make it to the other side and back to our nice little house with its innocent white siding and harmless white picket fence. It wasn't my choice, but I never argue with him.
We make it to the edge of our side of the forest just as two speeding police cars roar past us. He holds me closely in the shaows; it is dark and the moonlight illuminates his beautiful face. I can't take my eyes off him. He scoops me up and carries me inside....
He never gets caught. We've never even been questioned. But I wake up to a loud bang on the door. It pounds its way straight into my skull and I'm scared. I know this is the end. I've prepared for this day. I nudge his shoulder and he simply nods. And just as the police burst through the front door and we hear their footsteps thundering down the hallway to our bedroom, we swallow the cyanide I've kept in our nightstands and I lay my head on his chest. Even through this suffering, even to the bitter end, I hear myself saying, "I love you."
"I love you, too, Shay. They were never as beautiful as you....."