The Bad Ending

Characters: He, She and he, the other guy.

What would you say to a 27 year old woman who was in love with a Man for the last seven and half years and decides to fall for another man? That she loved to get angry at every small thing, drink vodka and smoke cigarettes despite the fact that He didn’t like it. That He loved her dearly and she knew that He was going mad at the recent separation. That she decided that He was not the one who would get a chance to heal her tortured soul that night. That very night.

I’m that woman. I knew that I was going to cheat on Him. I was going to avenge for every time He had hurt me. I knew that He would be waiting for my call. I knew that He would never like what I was going to do. And still I did that. Without letting Him know, I asked 'him' to come and take me to his home.

We drank vodka. A moment later, I kissed him. On his lips. Soft, pink and wet lips. I acted drunk but I wasn’t. At all. It lasted for two minutes. I won’t call it passionate. It was comforting. As if someone came and sublimated all my pains in his cosy embrace. I hugged him tightly. Thought about Him did strike my mind until I felt powerful enough to suppress them, bury them deep within along with the the dead passions that had been once ignited in me. I felt liberated. I felt relaxed. I felt at ease. I felt that the tension, the bad times was finally going to be over. I was with him. I was fond of him. Unlike Him, he was gentle, less forceful and much more sensitive. 

But he didn’t love me. I didn’t care as long as he was my pain-killer. While he made love to me, I never really craved for Him; he was better, softer and tender. It was sheer bliss. 

I never felt sad or remorseful until I talked to Him that day. I felt as if He would take revenge from him, whom I had started loving after the previous night. I couldn’t tolerate His voice, I said an indistinct sorry, which I was not and began worrying about him, who He should not hurt at all. I made sure of that by making all the fake promises that I could. He promised me that he would not hurt him. I felt good about cheating on Him, of letting Him know that He didn’t deserve me at all. That he was better than Him. 

But now, I am astounded. What am I seeing? How come He is here? And where is he? What has happened to him? I’m alone. Stuck with Him. Unable to find him, I'm scared.

'What did you do to him?'
'Nothing. Nothing at all. I kept my promise.' He says.
'Where are we?' I ask.
'In hell, which is better than the hell that I were a moment ago.'

He killed me. And Himself.  And unfortunately or not, we’re together for the rest of our death, while he, my new love, alive, is waiting for me back on Earth. He indeed kept His promise.