Midnight Conversations

“Why did you do it?”

I couldn’t think of a reason, so I didn’t answer.

“I need to know why. Maybe it will bring me some kind of rest.”

I still said nothing.

“I thought we were happy together. I thought we wanted to share a long life together.”

I hadn’t been happy, not for a long time. And I’d never wanted to share a life with him. But I wasn’t going to say that.

“Did you ever love me?”

This wasn’t a new question. It baffled me why he repeated it.

“I loved you. I loved you very much.”

I knew that. He didn’t have to tell me for me to know. I’ve always known.

“You were everything dear to me. I would never have wanted to live without you. You were the very air I breathed. I lived for you.”

No one can be the air anyone breathed. I wanted to tell him that, but I held the words in. He had lived his life for me, but I had only wished that he’d lived for himself. It’d been such a burden. A burden I couldn’t bear anymore.

“I wanted a child with you. I thought you wanted the same.”

I never did. I never wanted a child. Never with him.

“Why did you do it? Tell me. Why?”

Because he was such a burden. Because I needed to live again. And for myself.

“What did I do wrong?”

Nothing. Everything.

“What did I do to deserve this?”

He was him. That was his crime. He was who he was.

“Did I even deserve this?”

Maybe not. But I deserve to live free again.

“Talk to me. Tell me why. Don’t just keep silent. Speak. I need to know why.”

It would change nothing. If he knew why, it would change nothing.

“You won’t speak. You won’t tell me why. I am torn. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go. If to go. How can I live without you?”

This I could answer. This I had the answer to.

“You can’t live. You are dead. You will forever be dead, never to live again.”

I said the words and I realised that I would do it again if once wasn’t enough.

I would kill him again.

I would poison his drink and watch him writhe and spit blood until he died at my feet.

I would do it again, if once wasn’t enough.

“Why?”

I heard the muttered question. It was a heartbroken whisper. I turned away and stared at the padded walls of my prison. I would not speak again to him. Not tonight.

***

When the dead refuses to rest… lol.

Ever had an encounter with the dead? Any kind?