A Change of Heart

The view up here looks pleasant tonight. The perfect scenery for carrying out a plan. Alana waits patiently with me…

Intermittently, our gazes pretend to find interest in the sporadic cloud cover playing hide-n-seek with the stars.

Like invisible plasma being exchanged between two auras, we can feel the push and pull of bruised egos, wanting to just get it over with. Tension is growing with mounting pressure...

She knows how this ends, yet the inspiration for closure remains roadblocked by some unknown force.

There is no surprise in the inevitable. We've arrived at this juncture for a purpose. I have no interest in rescinding on an action that's been swirling in the vastness of desire for as long as I can remember...

When the mind spends too much time in one place, things can get volatile. Isolation is cruel, but not unusual. There are many others out there like me who have nearly gone insane.

Her mind paces back and forth between now and then. She knows what needs to happen... She is ready to continue.

I glance toward Alana again, her long, black hair is trailing behind her shoulders, accentuating the red floral dress she wears. It's a shame our relationship led to hate. I find her rather attractive on some obscene level of inbred perversions.

Unfortunately for her, she can never be forgiven. It goes beyond family or morality... It's an infraction against God's will.

She thinks about them every day, wondering why. He knows what is expected of him. Premeditation is a crime of the vindictive. An agreement they have.

After what seems like forever without interaction, Alana begins walking closer to the balcony's railing. Something is about to happen. Finally, I'm overcome with the urge to speak...

"Alana! How could you? This is your only chance to explain to me how you can live with yourself knowing you poisoned my only child... I know what you did."

Without saying a word, she slaps the taste from my mouth.

"How dare you accuse me of that! You have no idea what happened that day!"

The blood I taste initiates the tempest of rage. I rush her in a blind frenzy, struggling briefly before thrashing her over the balcony. I watch in complete satisfaction as her arms flail at nothing to grasp. She lands solidly in an unforgettable position.

She's had a change of heart...

Breathing madly, I wipe the blood from my lips and prepare to escape into the dark of the night. But Alana is again standing next to me on the balcony. A violent tremor of disbelief ripples through every inch of my being... I saw her fall to her death!

Alana looks at me with eyes of the devil. Brandishing a ten-inch knife, she lunges and yells, "It is you who will die instead!"

To my unforeseen horror, the author of this unfinished novel had a change of heart. She killed off my character instead of the dangerous bitch I knew as Alana.