When you’re about to die, your life does NOT flash before your eyes.
When you’re about to die, your life does NOT flash before your eyes. Not your complete life anyway. It’s more of a blooper reel. My low-lights included many things that I regret deeply. There was the time when, as a very young kid, I stayed up real late crying that I wanted to die, and I kept it up until my mom made me come stay in the bed with her. I only did it because I wanted the attention and after that night I never did it again. That’s only one though. There were many, dozens, of moments of physical intimidation where I did nothing to stand up for myself. There were the moments in high school, watching my ex-girlfriend fuck her new boyfriend at the prom after party, watching him squeeze her tits, seeing me and telling me to fuck off. And I just hang my head low and walk away.
At the exact moment when you know it’s coming, your death that is, your brain does this little pre-show where it tells you what to expect. Mine told me that it was gonna review those moments where I tapped out and quit. The times where I hit the bottom of the barrell. I realized that I fucking lived at the bottom of the barrell. The good times never came. And as I saw my ex-girlfriends face, contorted in orgasm and her new boyfriend having the time of his life, I saw the exact moment when I resigned myself to the whims of others, and their approval, forever more mattered more to me than my own. That moment saved my life.
I reached down, way deep down and found the fight inside myself. I kicked out with both legs and shoved the rapist off of me. His knife left a big tear in my throat but did not cut any major arteries. He stumbled backwards with this confused look on his face. I took that opportunity to run. I ran as fast as I could and went straight to the apartment of that ex girlfriend.
I knocked on the door where her new boyfriend was now her old husband. She answered the door and recognized me. She was more shocked at the blood on my throat than at seeing me for the first time in 5 years. I went in and kissed her before she could say anything. She did not pull away. She did not touch.
“You’re bleeding.” she says.
“Yes. And it’s about time you shared.” I say this and then go straight to the hospital.
You don’t hear about gay rape very often- unless the narrator is a lesbian- your short does its job by making me think.
i love this story, well done
that’s almost beautiful it’s so moving. I only say almost because it’s so sad. I was enjoying it and when it got to the part of the rapist my hand went involuntarily to my mouth with shock. Is that the reaction that you were hoping for?
Can I ask you.. why does she need to share in his bleeding. I got the impression from the story that it was her new boyfriend that was taunting him, not her. Just wondering.
If you want me to state the unstated subtext I’ll do it. but I don’t want to stop anyone from interpreting it in their own way.
I will say this though. The narrator is a woman.
hmmm.. sneaky
.. don’t ruin it for others .. I’ll stick with my perspective 