Masochist

Huddled in a dark corner, I heard his laboured breathing. Heavy footsteps crept nearer and the dark shadow he cast lengthened with each lunging stride. My grip tightened on the rusty old penknife I had grabbed whilst fleeing for safety. I sensed him inching closer, his acrid breath tainting the air,melding with the choking scent of fear and nervous anticipation emanating from my every pore. Could he sense me? Surely he could not hear my heart screaming in my throat... Did he know I was alone? Vulnerable? Afraid? Fingers clenching and unclenching, syncing in rhythm with the erratic beating of my heart, I waited. 

At last, he stopped right at the spot I wanted him. After but a moment's hesitation, I walked out from my corner in the wall. I had caught him off-guard, I knew from his sharp intake of breath. My time was then. I lunged and in one swift movement drove the knife deep into his stomach. At eye level to his chest, I clenched my eyes shut as the sharp edge of the blade ate greedily through flesh and adipose tissue, even as the sticky slippery ooze of blood coated my fingers, I kept my grip steady, refusing to let that first tremble break through the false bravado for I knew defeat was just as imminent as the last glimpse of survival. 

I stamped down bile and choked back tears for though I kept my eyes shut, I could sense the dilation of pupils, hear the anguish moan of pain as death hung in the air like a heavy curtain, ready to cuff its heavy shackles around this one lost soul. It would haunt me but I had no choice. I had a duty. I was the only one left to protect the family..... 

From far away, I heard the dog bark. The familiar pitter patter of paws and the scraping of cement as the puppy let out a playful bark for dinner, the cacophony punctuated by the musical tinkle of metal cutlery and porcelain plates being laid on the table. Slick with sweat, I awoke amidst the miasma of being suspended between two worlds. One where reality resides, and the other where reality is what the mind concocts.