SEVENTY-FOUR

Broken Hearts

Samantha sat up straight when Jarrod opened the box. There was a pair of scissors, some razors, a sharp curved knife, and needles. She could barely make out the syringes and a small bottle, amongst other things she couldn’t see. The madness in Jarrod’s eyes flamed like sparks, unable to be controlled. She hadn’t trusted him when he walked in with the delicious smelling food, and she wasn’t about to trust him now.

“What are you doing?” Samantha demanded. “What do you want from us?”

“I don’t want anything from you, Sammy,” he said to her. “What I want from Lolita, however, is for her to love me.” he took out the sharp curved knife and studied it. “Is that too hard to ask?”

Samantha’s voice broke when she spoke. “Please don’t. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“What, you think she’s delirious from her pains? I haven’t even touched her in days.”

“Neither have you treated her. Have you seen her wounds? It’s infected and eating away at her.”

“Is it?”

Smiling, Jarrod