Happiness...

  Have you ever liked something that you knew you really shouldn’t due to the depravity of the action? Like being choked during sex to the brink of death just to see if you’ll make it back or allowing someone to run a knife along your throat; trusting them to not slice open a valuable artery? I have. Once.

It was 3 years ago. I was walking home from work, my feet aching to be put up after being on them all day when I was grabbed into a parked car. I remember not even trying to scream for help, but looking around the completely blacked out car in hopes to see something; anything. My attacker seemed to be anticipating a struggle, and was noticeably disappointed when I just sat there, wiggling my toes in my shoes and sighing contently. Fear had not set in, and that surprised not only myself, but the man with his rather large, gloved hand wrapped around my elbow.

Frustrated, he yanked me toward him and held a knife to my throat. I could see his eyes peeking through his hair, which hung down across his forehead in an almost adolescent fashion. His eyes; a deep blue, wide with anger, frustration and shock stared into mine in an attempt to intimidate. I simply looked at him. No noise escaped my lips. No plead for survival, no tear dripping from the corners of my eyes. My eyes, staring back at him, showed nothing but acceptance.

He pressed down, letting a little trickle of blood escape my flesh and I remember smiling. Glee sprang to my brain and this was just what I needed to end the day. I smiled widely at him, making his breath become more ragged and his hand shakier on the blade.

“Why are you watching me like that?! I’m going to kill you, bitch!” He screamed. Frustration at the boiling point, unable to process the reaction I was giving him. This made me chuckle, the blade cutting deeper into my throat.

“What would you have me do?” I asked, a grin across my lips as the small trickle of blood pooled at the base of my throat. “Scream for help? Beg you to spare my life? Offer my money, my purse; anything but my cell phone because it’s all I have?” He looked down at me, his mouth open in astonishment.

“You can take my purse, sir. You can have my money, the keys to my apartment; hell the address is on my license, you’re welcome to it. Just do me one favour. One small favour before you take everything and leave me here with just my blood.”

“What?” He asked, almost in a whisper. His hand, still trembling with the blade.

“Cut me deeper.” I leaned towards him, grabbing his wrist and holding it so the knife cut me so deep, I could feel every piece of flesh in my neck snap under the pressure. Blood gurgled out of my mouth, it splashed against the young man’s arm and face as I smiled a wide, bloody tooth grin. I made him watch; I held him there until my hand, wrapped around his wrist, turned limp. Life left my body and I ended with a smile on my face. A smile of bliss.