I loved him with all my heart. I truly did. But he betrayed me and my sister. My poor, innocent sister who had done nothing, was betrayed while I just watched. I will never forgive him, or myself, for that. 

Never.

Let’s go back to 5 years ago today, where this story begins. I was exhausted from pulling an all-nighter studying for college. I walked into a local cafe, Latte Loca, planning to order a coffee, though I was undecided about which one. The front door of the cafe opened and shut quietly, almost as if it had never moved at all. The only sign I had entered the sweet-smelling storefront was the bell that rang melodically above my head. I breathed in the all-familiar smell of coffee and macaroons, the beautiful smells I hadn’t intaken in two weeks. I scanned the room quickly, a habit, to see if any of my friends were there. 

Instead of a friend, such as Rachel or Lorelei, I saw a man. He had chestnut brown, wavy hair, muscles for days, and was reading a book with icy blue eyes. As if he could feel my stare, he looked up from his book - a romance! - and locked eyes with me. He smiled, revealing shiny, white pearls, eyes lit up. I could feel my heart beating in every part of my body, heat flooding my cheeks, as I smiled shyly back at him. The beauty. Oh, how ignorant I was. No man will ever be perfect, or even good for that matter. 

I walked over to him, entranced within him, high off of a new-found crush. It was my first crush in 7 years, a long time waiting. Yet I didn’t even know his name. 

As I reached his table, I knocked into the table next to him, which conveniently had coffee on it. I gasped as 3 cups of scorching hot liquid spilt on me and the people sitting at the table. The 3 people (friends, I assume) stood up quickly, their faces turning red with anger, embarrassment, or possibly both. The heat stayed in my cheeks, yet for a completely different reason than before - guilt and embarrassment. Okay, there was self-pity in there as well for the sole reason that I had messed up the one chance I had to impress a man I was crushing on. 

Just to prove me wrong, the beauty of a gentleman I had been admiring just seconds before stood up just as one of the friends started to say, “How dare you!” and came up behind me. He introduced himself calmly and steadily, even as I was internally freaking out. Well, I guess he wasn’t the one who had spilt the coffee on himself and 3 others. “Hi! My name is Amir. I’m so sorry for this, my girlfriend is a bit clumsy. Let me help clean this mess.” 

I was shocked, confused as to why he would introduce me as his girlfriend to complete strangers, but I didn’t argue. I had wanted a boyfriend since I was 8. Being 19 and having had 2 crushes in my lifetime, I was hopeful that Amir might be the one, being pretty, protective, kind-hearted, and calm (or at least qualities I had guessed based on the few minutes I had been in the cafe). At that moment, though we had only just met, I was sure that we would be in love forever, and that my life was finally complete.

Well, not everyone has a happy ending, do they?

- - -

5 years later; today

I snapped back to reality when I heard an even knock on the door to the bedroom I shared with Amir. It had a light blue paint covering the walls, white breaking the trance of an ocean on the ceiling. White furniture covered the room, organized by my obsessiveness with being clean. There were two bookshelves, both filled with color-coordinated books which had every page turned. The floor was fully covered with a gray carpet, a white design flowing throughout. Flowers covered the room, as I had been collecting them since the age of 10. Every room in the house had some, my passion for nature showing through and through. Looking towards the closed door, I answered the knock confidently. “Come in!” 

Amir opened the door with grace and delicacy, treading across the large room in four strides, almost like a cat - silently and predator-like, as if he was concealing a secret that he wasn’t intending on telling me. I didn’t ruminate on it, as I was playing a game of chess on my phone, one which I was losing quite poorly to a player ranked 1457 (in comparison, I am rated 1065). I moved my pawn to g6, which opened up my king for a checkmate. “Crap!” I said, exasperated, throwing my phone down on the bed. The phone bounced up 3 inches before gravity pulled it back down onto the white comforter with gray lines dancing upon it.

Amir had learned over time not to question or try to fix my poor loser attitude whenever I lost a game or was proved wrong in an argument. (I admit, it’s a not-great aspect of my personality, so I should listen to his advice, but… Oh, there’s no good excuse not to.) Amir asked his question without waiting for me to look up. Standing in front of me, the weight of his muscular body leaning on his right leg, he asked, “Can you come downstairs for a second or two? I need help fixing something in the kitchen.”

“Amir, you know that I’m terrible at fixing things. I’ve tried before, but-”

I was interrupted by Amir’s large hands pushing my shoulders backwards, quite harshly in fact. That set off an immediate red flag in my head. He’d never used violence with me before, so what happened? Is today an off day, or is he planning something? He snapped me out of my thoughts before I spiraled too deep by replying, “I know, but two is better than one with these scenarios. I’m not great at plumbing, so I could use some help.”

The alarms in my head became louder, screeching through my brain, blocking out every other thought. Why is he lying? I know that he’s adequate at plumbing. However, I’m more perturbed by what would happen if I don’t go downstairs, assuming that his aggressive, sneaky mood would only have more power over his normal personality. I don’t want to get myself into a situation I can’t get out of, so I nodded my head, breathing becoming shallow, mind racing with ‘what if’ scenarios. Something is off with Amir, but I can’t place what it is. “Good,” he whispered with an irritated edge, stepping back from my body. He spun around to walk to the kitchen, showing me a view of his long, curly brunette hair which had grown past his shoulders. I still found him as beautiful as the day we first met, but for today, and hopefully just for today, he is not the man I fell in love with, the man I met at Latte Loca. I stood up, cracking my knuckles loudly, before following Amir down the stairs to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a wide room filled with around 15 plants I had collected. Some were of considerable size, whilst others, specifically the ones on the windowsill, were smaller. The floor was white, yet didn’t show any stains or dust from the events that happened throughout the day. The countertops were a pretty marble Amir and I had just installed the previous week, the walls complimenting them with a light green, moss-like; bold, yet calming. The cabinets were white, the same shade as the floor and table, every shelf being categorized. Around the table, there were 4 deep blue, cushioned chairs that were all pushed in, all except for the one Amir had pulled out to sit on. 

Or to hide something behind. As I moved across the room to look under the sink, he moved his body too, his hands behind his back. Amir was grinning up at me, similar to the Cheshire Cat in the dark, teasing Alice in Wonderland. Suddenly, it clicked in my head. He was pranking me! That would be why he lied to me, why he reminded me so much of a cat, a cat that had been up to no good. I smiled at him, confident that he was still the man that I loved. Maybe he was hiding a ring, about to propose. What would the ring look like? Maybe he was going to pull down my pants as I checked out the pipes and laugh, saying, “Pranked you!” I held back a giggle at that last thought, cheeks turning red from either prospect. 

As I opened the cabinet, I couldn’t see anything wrong with the plumbing system. I had watched videos when Amir and I first bought the house to know what a broken or clogged pipe would sound or look like. I stood up, ready to turn around and say, “I got you!” before Amir could. But instead of him pulling down my pants or saying flirtatiously, “Turn around,” I heard metal smack against my skull, pain shooting across my head, pain of which I had never felt before. It was as if I had hit my head on the ceiling of the attic, yet 50 times worse.

Everything went black.

- - -

As I gained consciousness, I smelt oil and smoke, feeling heat, yet numbness at the same time. The only pain I felt was a throbbing headache, right where I could feel dried blood, itchy in my tangled hair. I blinked a few times to clear my eyes, and as I focused on my surroundings, I didn’t recognize the garage (or at least what I assumed was a garage) I was in.

There were no cars - instead, the floor was covered with burning oil, sending a wall of smoke up and all across the room. My eyes watered right as they cleared as I coughed twice. I looked to my left; my sister, Talia, had just woken up, as it seemed; she was looking around the room the same way I was. That’s when I realized that we were both tied up on the wall. I screamed, kicking and flailing, finding that the knots were tight, tight enough that I couldn’t leave without someone else untying or cutting them. When I somewhat calmed down, Talia met my eyes, her own filled with fear. Without either of us speaking, I knew something was to my right, the only place I hadn’t looked in the room, and it was terrifying Talia. 

I slowly turned to the right, and there was Amir, still beautiful, standing on the stairs that led into a building. The door behind him was closed, so I couldn’t see what the building was, leaving me without any clue where we were. However, what scared me more was the pistol he was holding with both hands, aiming it towards our heads. He walked down the stairs, seemingly practiced, as if he had committed many crimes before. 

Once Amir was in front of us, he got straight to the point. “So, which one of you is getting shot today? Who deserves it the most?” He smiled evilly, a smile I’d never seen before.

Before I could process what he was saying, Talia said, “Me. I deserve it. Just promise to leave my sister alone.” 

I gasped. “Talia, what-” But before I could finish my sentence;

BANG.

I screamed as my sister’s head lolled forward, bleeding. Amir - someone I thought I knew, but never did - laughed maniacally. “At least she got a quick death. Let’s see how long you last in this smoke.” He laughed again before running into the building, leaving me to struggle against the ropes, thick smoke, and the view of my sister’s dead body stained in my mind.