posted on May, 15 2009 @ 08:55 PM
Eric wanted Belinda to die.
But, there had been a time when Eric had loved Belinda, before she spurned him. Love? No – it couldn't be called that. Because love is suppose to
be pleasurable, and all he had ever experienced from Belinda was raw agony of rebuff and ridicule. She had tortured him into a state of insanity.
He would wake up at night, calling her name – Belinda! Why are you doing this to me? His whimpers would resonate in his lonely and empty apartment,
and he would uncontrollably cry. It was an agonizing love, and over the course of time, the constant and unrelenting pain began to change him.
Almost all of us know this: unrequited love invariably turns to hate. And when the sense of love is exceedingly strong, the consequential hate is
dangerously intense. Eric's adoration of Belinda slowly putrefied over many months. Eric's fantasies of soft, love filled nights with Belinda – of
candlelight dinners and soft caresses – these fantasies changed.
In these new fantasies, instead of his fingers gently touching her lips, it would be his fist that would slam into her mouth. Perhaps it would be the
muzzle of a gun. He would break her teeth with its barrel, and then unload the pistol's magazine into her head until her skull was in fragments, and
the room was drenched in her blood.
He realized, without the pleasure of her love, no greater pleasure could possibly exist than simply killing Belinda. He would achieve full relief from
That was Eric's plan.
He bought a pistol. That next morning he dressed in his best suit and favorite tie. He polished and wore his best shoes. The pistol was tucked into
his coat pocket. He went to work. He didn't go directly to his office. Instead, Eric stopped at the second floor, went to Belinda's office, and
found her chatting with one of her many girl friends. What secrets had Belinda made her friends privy to, for their enjoyment, at the expense of his
Eric stood in her office door for a few seconds, until they stopped talking. Finally, Belinda's cold and arrogant eyes met his.
"She never gave me a chance to show you how much I loved her," Eric thought to himself. "How good it might have been for both of us!"
In one second, before her next breath, she would die; she would exit this world like water pouring down a drain – out of existence – out of his
And there! At that exact moment, a strange telepathic energy passed between them! She saw it as clearly as he did! She obviously saw it: his feelings
were so intense and so understandable that the entire world must be aware of them. In a split second, Belinda's look of haughtiness was weirdly
replaced by a horrific understanding of the fate that waited for her.
Eric saw it. Belinda's look of superiority abruptly replaced by stark fear! She knew – must know clearly – this was the moment of her death. He
saw it so plainly – the shattered bones of her skull, the spinning of her soul into eternity, the fluids of her life spilling onto the floor! How
could she not see it as well?
He observed the horror in her eyes, and her agony of terrifying foreknowledge. The bond of his adoration made such knowledge possible for her. The
encounter had lasted only a few seconds. In the next second, she might have died. But instead, without reaching for his pistol, or even saying a
single word, Eric abruptly turned and left.
"Whoa – what was that all about?" Margret turned to Belinda. "Who was he?"
"I think his name is Eric. He works upstairs. Pretty cute, huh?"
"I'll say! Ridiculously cute – and spooky too! So, you don't know him?"
Belinda smiled dreamily. "Not yet. I keep seeing him around. I think he likes me. I wish he wasn't so shy. If he would just asked me out! I would
say yes! Of course! In a heartbeat!
[edit on 15-5-2009 by Axial Leader]