Dedications

So like maybe 1 month ago, I posted a status, in which I said I would make something - a story, an artwork, SOMETHING - for ten people that comments 'I'm in!' and in return they too have to repost that status as their own and make something for their own 10 other friends.

Approximately 1 month later, I have finished only ONE artwork, and have been trying to make better ones ever since to fulfill that promise, which I am supposed to finish by the end of 2014. 

Yet today, I received this short and sweet story from a friend whose status I commented 'I'm in!' on. Just to show you guys how well this friend of mine, Celine Wu, writes, here. Do read, enjoy, and comment on the story in the comments section if you want. Once again, thank you Celine for writing this story for me. I love you. x)

Some Bridges are Meant to Burn

It probably says a lot about my up-bringing when my first thought after seeing my boyfriend with another girl is that I'm going to kill him. Or maybe everyone's right when they say I have a few screws loose. Not that I'd know; I definitely don't care either way.
But if someone says I'm overreacting, I'll cut their heads off. Because I'm definitely not.
There is no doubt that my douchebag boyfriend is cheating on me. Especially when he has both hands down this girl's pants.
I don't blame her though. Royce is handsome, rich, seductive. I've been with him long enough to know that he can be sweet and romantic; submissive and nurturing, too.
And as much as I love him, I don't think I can handle such treachery from him. Not again.
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You'd think someone as smart as Royce - straight A student in high school with a 3.8 GPA in college, rising star in the medical world - would be able to lie better about what he was doing when he was going behind my back. 
But no, he buys me something expensive, as usual, with a sheepish grin on his face that screams guilty conscience, and apologises for being late coming home tonight. 
You'd think someone as smart as Royce would think to be more cautious around me when he knows my penchant for keeping everything in the kitchen nice and sharp.
You'd think he'd scream as loudly as possible when I plunge a knife into his abdomen, twisting it as carelessly as possible once it entered his body right to the hilt. 
You'd think he'd try to throw me off, fight his way out of here, but he just lies there.
You'd think he'd look less surprised when I pull the knife out and draw a thin line of crimson across his neck, not quite ready to finish the job yet.
You'd think he'd be begging for forgiveness right now, pleading for his life. But no, he's looking at me with his face paler than I've ever seen it, sweat beading across his forehead. Whoops, shock must be setting in then. Definitely shouldn't have done so much twisting so near the intestines.
You'd think it'd be over by now.
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I really, really hate the sound of screaming. Especially when it's still night time. I mean, come on, don't you have any decency? Some people are still sleeping sweetheart. I know it's difficult to see your lover bleeding out on his own bed, but seriously, take it down a notch.
The girl Royce was with (I can't remember her name, but I know it's something ridiculous like Camrynn or something) faints just seconds after entering our bedroom. How convenient. She wakes up when I start carving obscenities into her face, though.
And let me tell you, tiny penmanship really gets fucked up when your paper starts moving. Well, more pain for her then.
Somehow, the girl thinks it's smart to try and kick me even though her hands and feet and bound. I reach behind her and grab her hands. Slowly, I start lifting them up. Before long, she's screaming again. It takes some effort, but I hear the satisfying crack of a bone or two breaking. This time, she shuts up and stays still when I ask her to.
Unfortunately, all the cutting and maiming gets boring way too quickly. Especially when no one dares to speak out or anything.
I run the knife I used on Royce before up the girl's spine, as deep as I can. It was fun to see how slowly I could hit something vital, but not quite fun enough.
Royce is passed out now, lips blue. I kiss them softly and swiftly, before replacing my lips with the knife.
I guess my work's done.
Bye, Royce. You really shouldn't have kept me around. Especially after that dementia diagnosis.

Nicki Sim

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