4 - Worse Than Death

“The devil inside a human’s heart harbors ill-gotten feelings and deceives a human’s mind to do something sinister.” 

___

SELENA.

“What’s happening?” My heart skipped a beat as I listened to the sound of the video. The only thing I had in mind was the Morgans’ devastated faces. They worked hard to make sure this party was a success, but now someone made a mistake.

If only I was a little bit keener, I would have deduced that there was more to this.

The video continued to roll, followed by the slideshow containing pictures of me having drinks at some bars with several men, and entering different hotels with them. 

This was preposterous! What’s my face doing there when I didn’t commit such crimes? 

My neck turned in my husband’s direction as stiff as it could.

I saw him weeping but the expression on his face smelled trouble. This was a nightmare, a misunderstanding, a deception! 

My husband definitely wouldn’t fall for this cheap trick, right?

Confident as I was, I found the courage to open my mouth and spoke to Drake, “L-Love…this was–” but before I could finish, a pair of big warm hands pressed around my neck.

The pressure was so tight that I could hardly breathe.

My heart got pierced a thousand times when my husband raised his arms to me for the first time. 

He wasn’t willing to listen and his mind was already clouded with the malicious content in the video. I felt my neck was about to break. The hands he used to caress me all the time are the very same hands that were killing me now. 

His eyes were gouging wide at me, expressing utter disgust and hatred,

“You even dare to speak, you little piece of shit! Cunt! Whore! Tramp! See for yourself, WIFE!” he called me names.

The words of insult endlessly came out from his lips in a flash, the very same lips used to kiss me. 

My heart was broken. Dispirited, I cried in silence.

I grabbed his hands and held them while I could. 

My airway was closing but I could still move my lips. I need to let him know! He must believe me!

With every ounce of strength, I blurted out, “Love. D-Drake. S-something’s w…wrong! Th-that girl, it w…wasn’t me.”

Every last breath was vital, but his trust for me mattered the most, so I begged him to believe me, “L-Love, you know for a fact that I would never do that to you,” my strength was escaping me. 

At the back of my mind, I kept repeating the words, “I believe you, Drake. You must believe me, too. Please, someone’s trying to frame me!”

But his thoughts were clearly clouded with doubts. So was his judgment. 

“Fuck you, Selena! Fuck you!”

“You think you can still play me around your fingers, you bitch! If not you, tell me who that is! Why is your fucking face in that video? In those pictures? Goddammit! I fought for you! This is how you reciprocate my love?” he cursed at me while his hands were still on my neck. 

“I c-can’t breathe, love. Please, listen. S…someone’s f-framing me,” I wailed in desperation.

“You think you can fool me? How long have you been fucking all those men? I will find those men and I will fucking kill them in front of you! I will fucking kill them!” his voice full of detest resonated throughout the whole area, and the guests were all quiet. 

“Love,  i-it’s…not me. It’s…” I am losing consciousness bit by bit.  

I thought I would die by his own hands, but surprisingly, Drake took a step back and looked at me distantly–a look of an estranged man disgusted by her. 

The worst feeling I ever felt was when the only person who believed in me finally abandoned me. I looked around and the reality synced in that without my husband, I was a stranger to this chaotic world of the Morgans.

Out of desperation, I  pleaded at the top of my lungs, 

“Whoever you are, please! Stop this nonsense! Why? Why are you doing this to me? Please! Stop this video at once,” the words came out of my mouth in repetition.  

But my cry for help triggered my in-laws. It was like an invitation to a violation when my mother-in-law slapped me without any hesitation, 

“You ingrate! Snake! I knew you were up for no good. We clothed you well, you whore, and yet this is how you repay us?”

“We let you in despite everything because our son loves you so much, and this is what he gets from you?”

“I will tear that face off of you,” Cecile's true nature, her violent side was seen by many. Countless kicks, punches, and scratches were just a start-up of my punishment, a punishment for something I didn’t do.

There was nothing I could do but crouched on the floor with my hands above my head, protecting it. 

For the first time in my life, my husband was never there to help me. He just looked at me blankly, staring as if seeing another persona on me.

“D-Drake, please. I-I d-don’t care if they don’t believe me, But please, h-hear me out,” I extended my hands and grabbed the edge of his pants, but he shook it off and walked away.

I watched my last ray of hope walk further and further away from me.

And with one last sentence, he exclaimed a regretful remark that killed me, 

“I picked you up from that muddy place. You are no longer my wife. You are nothing to me! You and your family must pay for what you did to me.”

Strength escaped me knowing that truly, I was now all alone in a lion’s den. The king of the jungle had abandoned her and the hyenas were waiting to devour me. Right then and there, I knew it would be the death of me. 

The physical pain was nothing compared to my bleeding heart. 

I couldn’t believe that my love for him wasn’t enough for him to trust her, “Drake, my love, is that how you truly see me? Is that what you think of me after all these years?”

While drowning myself in melancholy, I felt pressure on my scalp as if someone was trying to rip it off from my skull. My half-closed eyes tried to see the figure doing this, “Dario,” I whimpered. 

He is the head of Morgan’s line of security. And if he’s here, it means I‘m dead meat. 

I overheard the conversation between him and my father-in-law, Bart, “You know what to do with that garbage, Dario. I don’t want another mess after this, understood? Do it clean!” 

Father-in-law released the order just like that as if he’s just killing off a fly. While I was being dragged away, I heard him pampering his guests trying to explain that this is just a movement against him.

“Well, well, what a big turn of events! It’s politics! It’s just that the other camp won’t stop until they see my family give up on this Mayoral race. Yet, you are still here, and we are going to fight for you. You are the very reason why we want to win, so we can all be freed from their dynasty.” 

But it’s my life I have to worry now, “My life will end today, that’s for sure. Mom, Dad, Carrie, forgive me. I love you, I should have listened to you about the Morgans. Now, it is too late for me.”

Like garbage, I felt the friction between my skin and the ground as Dario dragged me.

Just like wheels skidding the pavement, hot friction crawled all over my skin causing it to bleed. Outside the mansion, he loaded me in a red van and tied both my hands and legs so I wouldn't escape.

I was as good as dead from all the beatings I received. Moving a muscle was out of the picture. 

That’s why when he tore my gown, There was no repulsion from me. 

I knew what they were doing, a rape skit they were trying to build to unlink me from tonight’s event.

“No hard feelings, pretty, just doing my job. Don’t worry, I’ll end it quickly, you’ve suffered enough,” he casually announced how he was going to kill me.

“P-please, m-mercy. I beg… you,” I kept begging him while he almost undressed me.

“Too bad, pretty. Can’t disobey them. You are just unfortunate enough to anger h–I mean the Morgans,” he paused in the middle as if he knew who planned all this.

The next thing I know, I was thrown like a mongrel in a dumpsite.

“Bye-bye, pretty, don’t haunt me, okay?” he pulled the gun out of his pocket, then put a silencer on it before pointing it at me. 

Seeing the gun pointed at me, I held my breath. My life flashed back before me. Tears fell non-stop as I reminisced about my happy moments with Drake. I am scared to die. I’m not ready to die. My body trembled just thinking of the bullets penetrating my skin.

Blood gushed out of my nose and mouth due to the organ failures I received from too much beating. 

“Have m…mercy. P-promise, not to go b-back here. J-just s-spare m..my life. Plea–” but when a bullet grazed my shoulder, my lips shut. 

The silent sound of the gun stimulated my heart even faster. How can a 28-year-old woman like me meet my end in a dumpsite like this?

I panicked and started wailing with all my might, but with the last spring of hope, “Nooo!” five bullets penetrated my body separately.

I had no intention of knowing which part of me was hit by the bullets, but the pain was unbearable. I heard Dario say that only one bullet was left from his mini revolver. I guess the last and sixth bullet would end my life then.

As he aimed between my eyes, I was face to face with death.

Without any warning, he pulled the trigger. For a second I lost consciousness.  And still, I am alive. What on earth?

I heard Dario click his tongue, “Dammit! Do you have extra ammo? The last bullet slips! Her head lowered as I fired!” 

Though the sound was faint, I could tell he impatiently threw his tantrums at the driver for his stupidity. 

Another voice came in and said, “No, I don’t. Let her be! She won’t make it alive anyway! Even if she lives tonight, she’ll get plowed tomorrow. Hurry, we don’t want any witnesses! Or else, Sir Bart will put a bullet in our heads instead!” 

I was too tired to move. My life force was draining.

“Let her, she’s dead anyway,” a familiar figure jumped into the conversation. 

Wait! Why is her voice so familiar? 

I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was disappointed by Dario’s missed fire. 

I need to see who she was. With all my might,  I prayed for my head to move, even an inch would be fine. I just need a window to see her face before I die. 

And my last wish was fulfilled, when she saw the woman smile sinisterly, “Goodbye, my dearest sister, Selena. If you hadn’t stolen Drake from me, you could have lived longer,” a voice of resentment was heard.

She threw red roses at my immobilized bloodied body, then they fled the scene.

As red as the color of the van that sent me off to my death, my innocent blood flew to the ground. Add up the petals of the red roses that floated and danced on my yet, flesh blood.

Shocked, devastated, betrayed, I mumbled just one word before seeing the dark, “Why?”