Page 19 of His Hell Girl

I slump in my chair, wishing I could erase the day from my mind. Hell, wishing I could forget everything.

Sisi.

The moment I'd opened my eyes and seen her… Seen the magnitude of what I'd caused, a bottomless pit had formedinside of my stomach, making me unable to process anything else.

I could only see the prints of my palms around her neck, the gaping wound at her shoulder, bleeding and bleeding…

And then…

I close my eyes, the image too much. Her naked body had been riddled with bruises, fingerprints and red marks I'd caused on her skin. I'd seen them on her thighs, her hips… her breasts.

"Lord," I groan out loud, the ugly bite mark on her breast threatening to make me sick.

But then there had been the worst of all. The blood between her legs. The same blood staining my cock and letting me know exactly what I'd done.

I could have killed her.

Bleakness overtakes me as I realize this is truly the end. I'd allowed myself to believe I could be saved, and in the process I'd damned her too.

Fuck, but the sight of her so battered, so broken had killed something within me. For all my claims of unfeelingness, seeing her like that had shattered me.

I pick up the blood streaked hair I'd salvaged from the floor, my fingers tightening around the strands as I bring them to my nose, inhaling.

"Sisi…" I whisper, wishing for the first time that things were different, that I were normal and deserving of her.

The thought of never seeing her again causes such a deep agony within me that I don't know how I'll manage. It feels constricting to breathe just imagining a day without her, but a future?

Slowly rising from my chair, I go to the bathroom, carefully washing the hair and placing it in a safe space so it can dry.

The last thing I'll ever touch of hers…

But I can't regret my decision. Not when I'd almost killed her. Certainly, I'd defiled her in the worst manner possible, the vision of her bloody thighs, or the gaping wound at her throat threatening to make me ill.

And then there's her expression when I'd lied through my teeth, hurting her where I knew she would hurt. Because I knew that my brave, beautiful Sisi would never leave me unless I left her first. She would staunchly withstand everything until I actually killed her.

And I can't have that.

For the first time in my life I value a human life, and I find that in order to preserve it, I'd doanything.

"Stupid," I whisper to myself, slowly bringing my head against the wall, the impact barely tickling the surface of my skin. "Stupid," I repeat, pushing my head even harder into the wall, wanting the pain–needing the pain.

But it doesn't come. Not even when my skin breaks and blood pools down my forehead.

There's simply no outward pain, not as there is inward, my chest constricting with a foreign feeling.

So I just bang my head against the wall, the knowledge of the pain I'd caused her my main impetus.

"Why?" I rasp, bringing my fists forward. "Why can't I be normal?" I cry out, tired of this existence… tired of everything around me.

"Why can't she be mine?" The words tumble from my mouth as I fall to the floor.

I'd never wanted something for myself, never craved anything like I did her. She was the one person who welcomed me with open arms, the only one to ever seeme. The one person who made me feel human.

And I almost killed her.

My eyes feel damp, from blood or tears I have no clue. Not when all I can think about is my barren future without her.

"Why can't she be mine?" I throw the question to the universe, already knowing the answer.

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