For my Friday Fiction post this week, I am having my first go at The Prompt, from Sarah at Mum Turned Mom. I am delving into the mind of one of the secondary characters of my story, to write this from his point of view. Thank you to all who joined in and linked up their own work last week. The link is open as usual.
I took my first steps down the road to self-destruction on the last night that we were all together. Aimee would never have cheated on me; I know that and I always knew it. But I let my stupid pride get in the way when I saw him kissing her that night. I didn’t stop to think that he was doing it on purpose to get at me. He wanted something that was mine and he wasn’t going to stop until he had destroyed what we had.
It worked. I believed him when he said he was in love with my girl. I wouldn’t listen to her side of the story and because of that I lost her. As far as I was concerned if she wanted him, she could have him. Eventually she gave up trying to convince me otherwise.
A month later, she disappeared. The police questioned me and arrested me as a murder suspect. I hated her for that. By running away, she destroyed my life. Everyone thought I was guilty, even though there was no body and no evidence against me. I couldn’t get away from it.
I had to leave. I had to start a new life, but I didn’t know where to go. My head was a mess. It was a mixture of anger, resentment and hate: a dangerous mix. I went travelling, hit the road, the bottle and screwed my way around the world. I took risks and I didn’t give a damn about the outcome.
Then I had the accident. I shouldn’t have gone out on that bike. The roads were winding and it was raining hard. I had been drinking and I thought I was invincible. Strangely, when I went over that ravine I felt at peace. I didn’t think about the pain, didn’t feel any panic, I just felt relief that it was all going to be over.
Waking up in hospital unable to move was the worst thing. I survived – couldn’t even get that right. Lying in that hospital bed, alone and unable to do anything or move, all I could do was go over and over the mess I had made of things. With a mind full of regrets, I began to analyse my life. I couldn’t help but think about the mistakes we make, how one thing can lead to another, and before you know it, there’s a trail of catastrophic destruction behind you.
My biggest mistake of all was letting the one good thing in my life go. Perhaps I was responsible for her death. I didn’t kill her with my own bare hands, but if I’d only listened to her, believed her when she told me that she didn’t love him, she loved me. May be none of the rest would have happened. May be she would still be with me today. The pain of knowing this runs sharply through my body. It is a pain worse than any other I have endured.
IF YOU WRITE FICTION AND YOU WOULD LIKE TO SHARE SOME OF YOUR WORK, PLEASE CLICK ON THE BLUE FROG TO ADD YOUR LINK. THEN GRAB THE BUTTON TO LET OTHERS KNOW WHERE TO FIND IT.
<div align="center"><a href="http://www.nikkiyoungwrites.com" title="Nikki Young Writes"><img src="https://nikkiyoungwrites.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/photo-2-e1394104529287.jpg" alt="Nikki Young Writes" style="border:none;" /></a></div>