Ben took a shower before. I took the remaining pills and crushed them. I folded the tissue inside and stuffed it into the pocket of my sweater.
Ben is in the kitchen standing next to the toaster. His dark hair was messy and stood on end. He was wearing only pajama bottoms and no shirt. I put my arms around his waist, being careful not to touch his infected area, and kissed his back.
"Go take a shower," I said. "I'm going to make us breakfast."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes. I want to take care of you."
Ben turned in my arms and kissed me. I kissed him back, continued the riddle, and let him go.
"Does coffee and toast sound good?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'll be quick," he said.
"Take it easy."
Ben kissed me one more time before heading to the bathroom. I waited for the bathroom door to close, then took a tissue out of my pocket. I grabbed a cup and poured some instant coffee mixture into it. I sprinkled the powder into the cup. I mixed the powder and coffee mixture together. I filled the kettle with water. The toast popped out of the toaster and I spread butter on it.
I tapped my fingers on the counter and listened to the shower running. I stared at the kettle, waiting for the water to boil.
This will all be over soon.
The sound of the shower stopped. My heart pounded in my chest. As Ben moved around the bathroom, I prayed that the water would come down quickly. I looked at the cup. Light green flecks of powder stand out in these black coffee blends.
If Ben found out I poisoned him, he would kill us both. I can throw the mixture in the trash or flush it down the sink drain. This is my last bit of hydromorphone. If I lose them, I lose my last chance.
The bathroom door opened and I unplugged the kettle. I poured water into the cup and stirred the powder. The water is warm but not warm enough to dissolve the powder. I stirred the coffee, faster, and it splashed onto the counter. I can no longer see the white powder. Ben's steps were getting closer to me and I wiped the counter clean.
I looked back at him and smiled at him. Ben's hair was slicked back and he was wearing jeans and a hoodie.
"Breakfast is ready," I said.
"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked.
I looked at the counter and saw there was only a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. I was so focused on his coffee that I forgot to make myself breakfast. "I'm done with you," I said. "I'm getting ready to bake some bread."
"No coffee?" he asked.
"My head still hurts a little," I said. "I can't drink the coffee thing right now."
"Do you still have a headache?" Ben cupped my cheek with one hand and stroked the eyebrows above my forehead with the fingers of his other hand. "Where does it hurt? There may be something wrong with the eyes."
I bit my lip and pulled his hands away from my face. Ben's brow was furrowed and his jaw was tense. I gave him a smile and shook my head.
"Not my eyes," I said. "It's probably just all the stress. I used to get headaches around midterms. I'll be fine."
"Go lie down and I'll make you something to eat," he said.
"No, I'm fine. Eat your breakfast before it gets cold."
"Okay." Ben pressed his lips to my forehead.
I put a piece of bread in the toaster. I turned around to see Ben leaning against the counter. He took a bite of the toast, then raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. I watched with bated breath as he swallowed a sip of coffee. The water isn't boiling yet so I'm not sure if the coffee will mask the flavor. My worries were swept away as Ben took another sip.
"Did you sleep well?" Ben asked.
"Fine," I lied. I stayed up all night thinking about pills.
Ben finished his toast and took another sip of his coffee. I want to know how long it takes for the medication to take effect.
My toast popped out of the toaster and I buttered it. He kept his eyes on me as he watched me move around the kitchen. My stomach was so tight that I didn't want to eat at all.
Ben took another sip of coffee. He raised an eyebrow and looked down at the cup. He ran his fingers over the bottom of the cup. He brought his fingers closer to his face. I could see the clump of powder on his fingertips. The powder at the bottom must not have dissolved.
"What is this?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I had to use my voice to stop it from wavering.
Ben's jaw dropped and he frowned. He raised the cup and threw it across the kitchen. The cup hit the wall and broke. The pieces fell to my feet. I crossed my shaking arms to my chest.
"You're a fucking asshole," Ben yelled. "Do you want to kill me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. I was trying to sound casual, but my voice came out high.
"Okay," he said. "if you are willing to."
He turned and stormed out of the kitchen. My heart raced when I realized he was heading toward the bedroom. The gun is inside.
I grabbed a frying pan that was hanging over the sink. Throw it at Ben. My aim was bad and it bounced off his shoulder. Ben yelled and turned around. I opened one of the drawers and pulled out a knife. It's a dull steak knife, but I need a weapon!
It wasn't the way I wanted it to be, but it happened.
I chased him. On the way to the bedroom. I jumped on his back. I wrapped my arms around Ben's neck as he tried to grab my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to stay on top of him. He gasped as my legs wrapped around him. The knife was held tightly in my hand. I tightened my grip around his neck with one arm and released him with my knife hand. I waved my hand and the knife pierced into his flesh. I managed to hit him just below the collarbone.
Ben screamed in agony. He turned around and hit his back against the wall. Pain shot up my spine and I let go of Ben. I fell to the ground.
Ben pulled out the knife stuck in his chest. Squat in front of me. Blood seeped from his gray hoodie. His eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched. The knife is in his hand.
"Everything is going great," he said. "And you messed it all up."
"That's never a good thing," I said. "This is disgusting."
"What they did to us was disgusting. Diana, I love you. We love each other. There's nothing disgusting about it."
"I do not love you!"
Ben inhaled sharply, his shoulders stiffening. Want to kill me.
"I never loved you, Ben," I said. "I liked you when you helped me. I liked you in the Caribbean. I hated you when you killed that guy. I hated you for bringing me to this cabin. When I found out you were the one, I Wanting you dead, you kidnapped me and ruined my life.”
"I did it all for us," he said. "I know we're meant to be together, we'll always be together."
I kicked him hard in the stomach. He held his abdomen where it was infected. I scurried across the floor and struggled to my feet.
"Dee, stop being so cruel!" Ben yelled.
He slashed the back of my calf with a knife. I screamed as a sharp, burning pain shot up my leg.
I stumbled and fell to my knees. Ben grabbed my ankle and pulled me toward him. I rolled over and lay on my back. Ben raised the blade above me. I aimed my foot at his face. He saw my movement and dodged my kick. I dug in with my heel and managed to hit him in the neck.
Ben gasped, his grip on my ankle loosening. I broke free and struggled to my feet. I rushed into the kitchen.
I opened all the drawers looking for a bigger knife. I pushed aside a pile of spatulas and wooden spoons and saw a butcher knife underneath. I grabbed it and slammed the drawer shut.
I turned around to see Ben walking into the kitchen. His movements were much slower than I expected. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He put a hand on the counter and leaned against it. He closed his eyes and his breathing became shallow.
"You need to settle down," Ben said. "You let this happen."
"I have no choice!" I said.
Ben shuffled across the floor towards me. I leaned my back against the counter and walked towards the door. I'm not going to let him corner me.
He put his hand aside and lowered the knife. It clanked on the ground. He held out his hands in front of me. I held the knife closer in front of me as he took a step.
"I'm not going to stab you," he said. "I don't want to hurt you like that."
He took another step towards me. I wanted to take another step back, but was stopped by the counter. Ben's breathing hitched as he moved closer to me. The drug was taking over his body and he was trying to fight it off.
"I hope this makes a difference," he said. His voice was barely below a whisper. "We'll get a second chance and I hope everything will be better. I love you, Diana. I know you love me too. You were the first one to fool me and I thought about Kawhi and it felt good. I I thought no one would love me after Gabby.”
I bit my lip as I listened to Ben's incoherent gibbering. He closed his eyes as he reached behind him.
There was a click, and I looked down to see Ben pulling the gun out of the waistband of his jeans. He must have taken it out of the bedroom before going into the kitchen.
He raised his gun, and I leapt forward, thrusting the butcher knife into his chest. He threw the gun to the floor and grabbed my arm. His warm blood flowed onto my hands. Ben's knees gave out, but he didn't let go of my arm. I tripped and fell on him. With my hand still on the hilt, I drove the blade deep into his chest. Ben chuckled and coughed. Blood spurted from his mouth and splattered on my face. A sticky crimson coated his lips.
"Good luck, kitten," he said as he managed to regain enough breath between coughs.
I let go of the knife and shook Ben off of me. He lay stretched out on the cold kitchen floor. All color was gone from his otherwise pale skin. His eyelids fluttered shut, covering his dark blue eyes. The hilt moved up and down with each shallow breath he took.
I should have picked up a gun and shot him. I made sure he died in front of me. I knew there was no way he could survive the pills and blades, but I needed to be sure.
I picked up the gun from the floor. It was much heavier than I thought and I held it in front of me with both hands. My finger dangled on the trigger as I took aim at Ben. His body was almost lifeless and he had no idea what was going on. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared to fire.
I stabbed Ben, but it was...in self-defense. His nearly unconscious body no longer posed a threat to me.
My goal was never to kill Ben. That's not what I want. I want to get out of here. I want to go home. I want to see Mom and Marcy.
Ben is no longer in the way.
I can't kill him. If I killed him, I would be like the three people I hate the most: Oliver, Bethany, and Ben.
I put the gun on the counter and took a step back from Ben. Ever since I woke up blind in Oliver's basement, one thing has been on my mind. I have to go home by myself. Now, it's finally going to work.
I walked into the bedroom. I unzipped the front and took out my car keys. I could drive until I found the police station, or even find another house in this wild forest of summer cabins. I threw my bag over my shoulder and walked back to the kitchen.
Ben was breathing heavily as blood seeped into his throat. He was in the same place, but his hand moved to his chest.
Paper maps are on the counter. I opened it and spread it out on the counter. I followed the black line drawn by Ben with my finger to see where we were. I rummaged through the cupboard and found a red pen. I found a way home for myself.
Fold the map and tuck it under your arm. I walked around Ben's body as I walked toward the door. I gave Ben one last look before walking out.
Cold air filled my lungs and the sun was warm on my skin.
I climbed into the car and spread the map out on my bag. I started the car and Ben's classic rock music started playing. I switched the channel to the next stop. Hosts are debating what some celebrities do at awards shows. I didn't recognize the celebrity's name and I wondered how long I'd been gone.
I looked in the rearview mirror. My green eyes and misshapen pupils. Ben's blood ran down my cheek. I wiped it with my sleeve and got nothing but blood. My other sleeve was stained with his blood.
Covered in blood. I didn’t want to spend hours in some Muskoka police station being interrogated by police. I want to go home. I want to cry in my mother's arms.
The car was filled with gas and I followed the directions on the map. I got on the highway and held the wheel tight. It was almost noon when we set off, and we watched the sunset while driving. My muscles ached from sitting for too long, and I flipped through the radio stations between each song.
Thankfully it was dark by the time I ran out of gas. Goosebumps spread across my skin as I found an empty gas station and filled up my car. Entering the station, I put my head down, threw a few bills on the counter, and left before waiting for him to give me change.
I threw the bloody sweater back and headed back to the highway.
A wave of nostalgia washes over me as the symbols around me start to look familiar. A smile spread across my lips and I started to speed up. I realized I was finally going home. I took the off-ramp and drove onto the city streets. I returned to my hometown, far away from that nightmare.
I saw my mother’s red brick house. There are several pumpkins and gourds on the cement steps outside the wooden door. The faint glow from the television behind the living room curtains disappeared. The windows of the house are dark. I looked down at the clock on the radio and saw that it was already eleven o'clock at night. My mom was always the one who went to bed early.
I knocked on the door but got no answer. I knocked again. Still no answer.
I always kept a key under my mother's big flowerpot. I kept forgetting my keys and she was tired of giving me new keys all the time. I hid one under the pot but I never told her.
I tilted the orange pot, the silver key still underneath. I picked up the key and opened the door. The nose is filled with the smell of home, which is refreshing. I ran to the bottom of the wooden stairs.
"Mom!" I shouted. "Mom! It's Diana!" I quickly went up the stairs and heard the sound of someone rushing above. The moonlight filled my mother's shadow. She was in her pajamas and her hair was standing on end. When she saw me, her jaw dropped and I jumped into her arms.
We're halfway up the stairs. Mom wrapped her arms around me so tightly that my bones were broken. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was sobbing breathlessly. A similar sound came from my mother's mouth. Our knees gave out and we sat on the stairs.
“Oh my God, Diana,” my mother said. "I thought you were dead. I really thought you were dead. They all told me you were dead."
"I'm alive," I said. "I miss you so much, Mom."
The front door opened and my heart pounded.
I'm not sure if Ben is dead. He is still alive and he came to kill me.
The lights came on and Marcy stood at the front door. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and held back with a thick purple headband. She was wearing scrubs and had her stethoscope in her pocket. Her eyes widened when she saw her mom and me hugging each other on the stairs.
"Diana!" she shouted. "Dee, you're back. I want to know whose car is in the driveway."
Marcy ran up the stairs to greet us. She knelt on my front steps. Her eyes ran over my bloody clothes, then she took my face in her hands. As she looked into my eyes, her face turned pale. Mom hasn’t seen me in the light yet. She had no clue.
"Di, what's wrong with you?" she asked. "What's wrong with your eyes?"
Mom positioned herself behind me so she could see my eyes. I leaned against her and cried harder. Marcy put her arms around both of us.
"Mom, did you call the police?" Marcy asked.
"No," she said. "She got home a minute before you."
Marcy let us go and took her phone out of her pocket. She called 9-11 and I listened to her talk to the police. Mom ran her fingers through my hair. I cried in her arms as she rocked me gently.
"Diana, what's wrong with you?" she asked.
As we waited for the police, I tried my best to explain everything that had happened to me since that fateful walk home.
