What is that feeling I get when I'm forced by Accident to spare a moments glance upon your face?
How could I even begin to describe it?
I fix my gaze elsewhere but we make eye contact anyways. Only for a split second. There's that moment's spark. You feel it and smile a complacent smile. I pause for a moment-
In that moment:
I could only wish that spark would light you on fire. In that split second, in the darkest parts of my mind, I could see you laying in your own fear-stenched shit. Who know's how long you've been wallowing in my bitterness. Days spent swallowing your own pride to stay alive. I then doused you in my hatred. Though it wasn't neccessary as your anxiety was enough to combust and kill us both.
I dragged you out to that bridge we used to meet on. I looked at you almost pleased with the set up. But then I caught a glimpse at your fucking pitiful face and that took the fun out of your execution by my hand. Even that, the satisfaction of ridding you in my life, was marred because of you. So I struck the match on the decayed bridge and though it was only a moment before the dying flame rested upon your fate. We stood at a time-stand-still. I turned a cold shoulder to avoid being burned by you again. And you both begged me for mercy and cursed me at the same time. Two faced and venomous, unsurprisingly.
You scream. You try to ease the fire. But I am already halfway home.
The fire quickly ate through the already decayed wood, far more assertively then with your skin, dropping you to drown in your watery grave. You were gone. The bridge burned. Such joy.
-Then I smile back at you.