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Book online «Love Is A Form Of Suicide by Jimm Tumbly (book club reads .TXT) 📖». Author Jimm Tumbly



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sent me home, Victory. They didn’t want me to have any contact with Spring Hill.” Her eyes find what she needs, and she embraces me.

“Brent, I’ve missed you so much! I-I cried for months, Brent!” I hold her, tears coming to my eyes.

“I know, I did too. I am so sorry.” We stand there in the now empty hallway, embracing each other with so much love that was lost during our two months apart. I had dreamed about this day, imagined it as I lay awake at night. I take in her scent, embrace her body, and kiss her with so much passion that my heart could burst. Victory is finally mine again. Never, ever will I leave her or our baby.

Runaway

"Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound. Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light. Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeopardy. Pray you could somehow stop uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain. Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.” -Ellen Hopkins

Life is full of surprises, many of them unwanted. We see things, hear things, think things and talk about things that we wish we hadn't. We do things with our life that can't be taken back, can't be unshaken, can't be untamed. Most of us act upon impulse, taking a hit, getting in the car, or laying in bed with another. At the time, these things seemed okay. But now, looking through the darkness of our memory, sorting through the images and cobwebs, we remember the pain that was the consequence of our action.

“I've missed you so much.” Victory chimes, hugging me closer.

“Oh, how I've missed you, Victory.” I reply, burring my face in her hair. The parking lot is silent as I hold my Victory.

“Brent, I have to go.” She says, pulling away.

“Why? We have been apart for two months and you just want to leave?”

“I told my mom I would be home after school. It's after school, so I have to go.” She starts to walk away and I quickly grab her arm, pulling her into me.

“I can't live without you.” I whisper into her hair. “No matter if I will see you tomorrow, or everyday from now. That's not enough. I want to wake up beside you, hear your sweet voice in the morning, listen to you hum in the shower, feel your kiss before I go to bed. Victory I need you by my side.” She stares up into my eyes.

“What are you saying Brent? That you want to run away with me?” The thought hadn't occurred to me until her soft lips spoke of it.

“Yes, that is what I'm saying.Victory, run away with me. Be with me, forever.”

“I-I don't know Brent...”

“You want to be with me, don't you?” I encourage.

“Yes but-”

“But what?” I cut her off.

“My mom; what will happen to her? I just can't leave her.” She replies. I look into her emerald eyes.

“Victory, does your mom have a new boyfriend?” I see the fear in her eyes as she calmly nods her head. “Then come with me. Where we are, no one will ever hurt you again. Not your mom's boyfriends, or even your mom. Please Victory, we can be a family.” She looks down at her stomach and thinks for a moment. Whatever she sees in my eyes convinces her.

“Okay, I will go with you.” She whispers. I pull her into me, embracing her. The parking lot is empty as I bend down and kiss her softly.

“We will leave tonight, so have your things ready by midnight. Do you think your mom will be asleep by then?”

“She won't even be home.” Victory says, looking down. I place my fingers under her chin and force her to look at me.

“I love you.” I whisper, every bone in my body telling me it's the right thing to say.

“Brent, I love you too.” She stands on her tip-pie-toes and kisses me with every ounce of passion her body has to offer.

“Come on, I'll take you home.” She walks to the passenger side of the mustang and gets in. I start up the engine and pull out of the parking lot with speed.

Since I met Victory, she has become my everything. Nothing no longer matters in my world, except her and our precious baby. Speaking of the baby, she will need to go to the doctor. Don't pregnant women have to get check-ups? I'll take Victory to the doctor as soon as we bust out of the confinements of our world. I'll take her wherever she wants to go because her happiness is everything to me. I love her with every fiber of my being, every atom of my existence. Victory is my sanctuary in this dark storm called life.

“Brent,” Victory says, getting out of the car.

“Yes?” I ask.

She looks at her small brick house. It's a beat up house with weeds growing by the broken door, grass five inches tall, and a slew of cans, chip bags and shoes scattered across the unkept lawn.

“Please hurry.” She whispers. I look into her bright green eyes and see the fear and sadness that lays within them. I want to pull her back into the car, drive far away from here but I know I cant. I have to wait until midnight, until the right time or else everything could go wrong.

“I will Victory, I promise.” I lean across the seat and grab her arm before she shuts the door, pulling her closer. I kiss her softly on the lips, a gentle reminder of my love for her. She pulls away reluctantly and shuts the door. I pull out of the driveway as she enters her own personal hell.

Its weird to think Victory has lived so close to me for all these years, and I never knew her. Her house-if you can call it that- rests on the other side of town. She had just transferred to my high school after she got out of Spring Hill. She claims she wanted a new start, a fresh beginning. That's good for her. But for me, I just want every bit of my old life back, before it went spiraling out of control. I want my father to love me like my mom claims he once did. I want my mom to stop crying when it rains because it reminds her of the beatings my father showers upon her. I want to be popular, well-liked and the guy I once was, minus the hate and suicidal thoughts. But nothing will go back to normal, because this is normal for me.

Victory told me all about what happened at Spring Hill and how she cried every night over me. She told me about the new guy that now occupies my old room. Nobody found out about the baby, which is a really good thing. Hearing all the stories about Spring Hill doesn't make me miss it one bit. I've tried so many times to block that part of my life from entering my brain. But not matter what I do, I will never forget the help Spring Hill offered me, and how quickly I denied it.

Runaway Murderer

Darkness engulfs me as I jump onto the low branch of the huge tree outside my window. Carefully, I jump to the ground, picking up my two black bags I had thrown down prior to my escape.

It is time. I am heading to pick up Victory and then we will make our escape, leaving behind us the cruel world we once knew. Nothing can stop us. Not my masochistic father or Victory's uncaring mother. We will be together and raise our family without the interruption of our horrifying past.

Quietly, I open the door to my car and throw my bags in the back. I sit in the passenger seat and close my door. I start the car and pull out of the driveway quickly, not wanting to be here if the roar of the engine had woken my father.

I drive the speed limit, not wanting to get pulled over. If I was to get pulled over for speeding, the cop would surely escort me home and have a talk with dad. That would further delay Victory and I's escape plan. Not to mention a-not-so-disciplinary beat down from dear old dad.

My hands grip the wheel tighter as I think of what dad would try to do to me. “No,” I whisper out loud. “His days of hurting me are over. Never again will he lay a finger on me. I'm done with him.” I quietly park along the curb outside Victory's house. She said her mother wouldn't be home, so I kill the engine and make my way up the concrete path to her broken front door. I knock calmly and what I hear surprises me.

“Be right there!” An out of breath male voice shouts. A few moments later the door opens. A man about 5'6 stands in the doorway glaring at me. His hair is dark black and there are bags under his eyes. He can't be but thirty-five and he is drenched in sweat.

“Who are you?” He spits, staring up at me.

“The real question here is who are you and where is Victory?” I say, trying to keep my anger under control.

“Victory is...indecent right now. Maybe you should come back at a better time tomorrow.” His smile is smug and his face tells me everything I need to know. With one punch he is holding his nose, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Where is Victory?” I shout. He doesn't speak. Instead he rears his arm back and swings, missing me completely. I grab his arm and hit him again in the face. Quickly, I knee him in the stomach and he falls to the ground. I want so bad to finish him off, but I know Victory needs me.

“Victory!” I shout, running down the hall. I glance to my left, she's not in there. I glance to my right, not in the bathroom. Finally I find her in a bedroom at the end of the hall. She is laying naked in a huge bed, the covers ruffled and her clothes spread everywhere. Blood is running down her inner thighs and she is crying. Her face is buried in the bed as she tries to get up. She falls limply against the dirty sheets.

“Victory!” I say, running to her. She looks up in shock as pull her into the embrace of my arms.

“Brent,” She whispers, sobbing against my shoulder. “He-he...”

“I know Victory, I know. Here,” I grab her clothes up off of the floor and hand them to her. “Get dressed and get your bag. I'll be back.”

“No, don't leave me!” She begs. I caress her cheek.

“I will be back. you are safe.” I kiss her on the forehead before heading back to the living room to finish what I started. The man is gone. There is a small puddle of blood on the carpet from his bleeding nose, but he is nowhere to be found. I turn the
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