WILL YOU MARRY ME?

But this is not how it was supposed to be.

He knew he had said the same thing many times that evening, sometimes mumbling it to himself, sometimes saying it out aloud. Right now, things had gotten so surreal that he thought he could hear the words ringing in his head, without even thinking about it or saying anything.

Surreal.

Yes, that would be a good way to describe the way his day had gone. What had begun as a short business trip now threatened to claw away at the last vestiges of his sanity.

Should never have come back here.

He sat down, and dropped his face into his hands, cupping it with both palms, as if not seeing could somehow make things go away. He felt something wet on his face and recoiled in horror. His palms were covered in blood.

Why doesn't the blood go away?

He had tried washing it off, but no matter how much he scrubbed, there always seemed to be blood. Blood. That was all he could see around him, a sea of blood with waves gently splashing against his feet. He blinked hard and got up, realizing that he was hallucinating. He still retained enough of his senses to know that. There was no sea of blood, no blood in factbut there had been. And that was what mattered.

Why did she do this to him?

He stumbled across the bedroom floor and stood by the open window, hungrily swallowing in the fresh air. He did not dare look behind him. He stood there for a long time, and finally gathered the courage to turn around.

God, she still looked beautiful.

He wished he had not done it. But then, what choice had she given him? She had played with him as if he were a toy, with no feelings. No, he had to put an end to it. How long could be continue to exist as a yo-yo, his whole existence at the mercy of her whims.

She could have chosen another day to say no.

He remembered walking up the stairs, his heart racing, trying to rehearse what he would say, fumbling with the ring in his pocket. He remembered her surprise when she opened the door and he blurted out the question. He remembered her unreasoning and cruel refusal.

He remembered the pain. Her pain.

But now it was all over. As he watched the life drain from her, a strange calm descended over him. Maybe this is how it has to be. Maybe this is the way things are.

He stepped out of the house.

Being away from that damned house alone seemed to lift his mood. He began walking briskly, singing the song he always did at times like this. He began to sing rather loudly, and a woman passed him, smiling at his awful rendition of the song.

She was the one.

He watched her enter the house at the end of the street and followed her, transfixed by her graceful walk, her long, black hair, and her full figure. By the time he got to the door, the familiar emotions had returned. The cold feel of the ring in his hand did little to comfort him. He reached into his hip pocket, and felt a more reassuring metallic feel.

Yes, she was the one.

She opened the door on his second knock. For a while, she just stared in surprise, wondering what he was doing there so late in the night.  He took out the ring in his left hand, as his right hand reached down to grab the blade in his hip pocket. He knew what he had to say- he had done it so many times already.

`Will you marry me?

(Inspired by SCREAM and the other psycho movies I seem to watch way too many of)