Love Gory (Short Story)

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night but quite the opposite actually. No lightning, no rain, no winds, no flying curtains, no banging windows. Instead, all was silent, dark and wet. Pathetic fallacy be damned, I thought, lying on the cold floor in a pool of blood, alien and alone. My shirt was soaked in blood and so were my denims; shivers were running down my spine every now and then. I was not traumatized, only scared. Though my mind was tranquil and my breathing slackened and deep, I was engaged in a bloodless battle with reality, trying really hard to hold it from dawning on my nerves. When a lot of things happen in a short period of time, one does take time to recuperate. In my case, things that had happened and the sights my eyes had witnessed were fiercer, wilder and gorier than my veins and arteries could take. After all that has been said and has taken place, I fail to comprehend wherein dwelt the problems or how did it all start in the first place. I reckon the onus of a dead life can’t be imputed only to some unreciprocated messages, surreptitious visits and mystical smiles. Perhaps, it was something else: something more sinister and clandestine was at work. But was it me or was it her? Sprawled beside her and beholding the lesion on her abdomen that was till oozing the crimson sublime liquid, my mind wandered back, into the prudent past of dusk and gloom.