I have been saving this trick for someone special, and boy, you fit the bill. Killing you would be too easy. I’d rather you suffer through the rest of your pathetic existence with a curse hanging over your head. I saw what you took from her, how you broke her heart.
How you expected so much, and treated her so poorly. I know you are the reason she took her life, I saw, I was there with her as the light faded from her eyes. She called your name, you know. But you ignored her, as you always did, immersed in the virtual suggestions of a webcam model. Because of this, I have saved a special seat in hell for you, I have saved a very particular curse. I bless you with the curse of Almost Love.
It may take a while for you to notice this subtle spell in action, but it will be too late. As the end of her life was permanent so shall be my words. She was pure, she was kind, she was good. She gave her all, wholly devoted. And so you used her up until she had no strength left at all, and then you laughed. You mocked her carefully chosen words. So I bestow this curse, this act of justice, upon you.
You are a flirt of a man, but you shall be no longer. For every night that she begged for your attention, affection, and company, you will have to beg another. You will be rejected, and lie in bed, alone and awake all night, wondering what’s wrong with you as the rejections accumulate and eat away at your confidence. There were so many nights she layed, abandoned, waiting up for you to return home and console her, while you were fraternizing.
Then, your friends and family will begin to second guess every word that you speak.
“Why are you using that tone? Have you got an attitude?”
They will comment if you are too loud, so you will speak more softly. Then they will be angry that they can’t hear.
” We don’t like asking you to repeat yourself. It’s inconvenient.”
I cannot wait to watch them invalidate every word that you attempt to share. I want to see you squirm as you start to wonder why those you care about are shutting you down so cruelly. Don’t you dare cry in front of them, or they will tear you to shreds.
Do you remember that time you took her car from her, because men could drive better? You would bring her to work and back home again, for a reasonable price, of course. And when you crashed and destroyed the vehicle, you pressured her until she bought a new one that she wasn’t allowed to use.
You will certainly remember now. No vehicle will ever function under your hands again. Your feet will swell and ooze with painful blisters every time you take a step. Your feet will experience the pain she felt when she had to work three jobs to support you. Your destinations will seem much further than they previously seemed before. You will either walk, or you will sit in the darkness of your room, begging for the mercy of a friend with a car. Like her, you will be shown none. They cannot afford the compassion. You will be left to sit by yourself, like a rag doll longing to be played with.
Maybe you will try to go out, but I’ve covered my loopholes, don’t be foolish! Every move you make will be carefully watched, and you shall be accused of having the worst intentions.
“How dare you have fun without us?”
And all of those times you marched past her, flaunting your harlots like a strutting peacock, as if she were just background noise? You proved how inadequate she felt. The girl that you said was the one was suddenly invisible to you.
All of your vanity will cost you. Your hair will soon fall in thick locks from your head. Your eyes lose their sparkle, your skin, it’s glow, and your face will become peppered with acne. And if, by some mysterious circumstance, some woman settles for your grotesque appearance, you will be impotent and incapable of pleasing her.
Lies you spun will haunt you as no one speaks a true word to you, and your dizzy brain won’t understand. How long will it take your trust to dissapate?
This will be so much fun! I’ll watch your paranoia fester, causing you to withdraw from the world, even further. They will peer into your wild eyes, and accuse your mind of losing it’s sense. And they are right to call you crazy, because your multiplying insecurities are growing into an unpredictable depression.
“Would you mind not having panic attacks or freaking out? You look rediculous.”
When you come to the realization that this pain is what your life will forever be, so you finally reach for that handful of pills to ease your stresses and slide a blade along your wrist. Do you remember, when you saw her, morbid intentions clear, and you closed the door in her face? How the hope had faded from her soul?
Nobody will come to look for you. The girl you were meant to love has died lonely and so will you. Perhaps now you have learned a lesson of appreciation, eh?
You see, dear boy, I know exactly what you are afraid of. It isn’t height or the dark or creepy crawlies. It isn’t even the demons that follow you, attracted to your vile choices. It is I, Karma, and boy, I’m a b***h.
