Seventy one

She was the embodiment of hate.

A living, breathing being that had hate coursing through the veins of her body instead of blood — beautiful effulgent yet eyes bloodshot; lethal, and outrageously murderous.

Michelle was resentment reincarnated, but she was viewed in that manner only in his eyes.

Only in the eyes of Derek — he witnessed his once sweet, lively, somewhat credulous Michelle transform into a being that loathed him.

He did bring this upon him.

Over, and over again his subconscious replayed the scene of Michelle stabbing him with the sole intention of riding him from the Earth.

The wistful agony brought the gynecologist back to a state of consciousness.

Slowly, his eyelids flew apart, giving way for his droopy teary orbs to behold the view of a ceiling.

Derek was finally awake.

His body which laid motionlessly on the moderately large bed was heavily bandaged. Both his wrists had narrowed tubes connected to a vein or two yet nothing felt real to him.

Owlishly, Derek gawked at