Ben before taking a bath. I picked up the rest of the pills and crushed them. I folded the paper towel inside and stuffed it into the pocket of my sweater.

Ben was standing next to the toaster in the kitchen. His black hair was messy and erect. He wore only pajama pants and no shirt. I put my arms around his waist, being careful not to touch his infected area, and kissed him on the back.

"Let's go take a shower," I said. "I'm going to make us breakfast."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes. I want to take care of you. ”

Ben turned around in my arms and kissed me. I kissed him back, continued the riddle, and let him go.

"Does coffee and toast sound good?" I asked.

"Yes, I'll be soon," he said.

"Take your time."

Ben kissed me again before walking to the bathroom. I waited for the sound of the bathroom door closing, then pulled a paper towel out of my pocket. I grabbed a cup and poured in some instant coffee mixture. I sprinkle the powder into the cup. I mix the powder and coffee mixture together. I filled the kettle with water. The toast popped out of the toaster and I buttered it on top.

My fingers tapped on the counter and listened to the sound of the shower. I stared at the kettle and waited for the water to boil.

It will all end soon.

The sound of the shower stopped. My heart was beating wildly in my chest. As Ben walked around the bathroom, I prayed that the water would flow quickly. I looked at the cup. The light green powder flecks stand out in these powders of the black coffee blend.

If Ben had found out I had poisoned him, he would have killed both of us. I can throw the mixture in the trash or flush it down the drain of the sink. This is my last bit of hydromorphone. If I lose them, I lose my last chance.

The bathroom door opened, and I unplugged the kettle. I pour water into a cup and stir the powder. The water is lukewarm, but not enough to dissolve the powder. I stirred the coffee, and faster, it spilled on the counter. I can't see the white powder anymore. Ben's footsteps were getting closer and closer to me, and I wiped the counter clean.

I looked back at him and smiled at him. Ben's hair is combed back and he wears jeans and a hoodie.

"Breakfast is ready." I say.

"Aren't you eating?" He asked.

I looked over the counter and saw only a cup of coffee and a slice of toast. I was so focused on his coffee that I forgot to make myself breakfast. "I'm done with you," I said. "I'm getting ready to bake bread."

"No coffee?" He asked.

"My head still hurts a little," I said. "Something I can't drink coffee right now."

"Do you still have a headache?" Ben held my cheek with one hand and stroked my eyebrows above my forehead with the fingers of the other. "Where does it hurt? It could be that there is something wrong with the eyes. ”

I bit my lip and pulled his hand away from my face. Ben's brow tightened and his jaw strained. I gave him a smile and shook my head.

"Not my eyes," I said. "It's probably just all the pressure. I used to have headaches around midterm exams. I'll be fine. ”

"Go lie down, I'll make you something to eat." He said.

"No, I'm fine. Eat it before breakfast cools. ”

"Okay." Ben pressed his lips to my forehead.

I put a piece of bread in the toaster. I turned around to see Ben leaning against the counter. He took a bite of his toast, then raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. I held my breath as he swallowed a sip of coffee. The water hasn't boiled yet, so I'm not sure if the coffee will mask the taste. When Ben took another sip, my worries were gone.

"Did you sleep well?" Ben asked.

"Good," I lied. I didn't sleep all night, thinking about pills.

Ben finished his toast and took another sip of coffee. I wonder how long it takes for the drug to take effect.

My toast popped out of the toaster and I buttered it. His eyes kept on me as he watched me walk around the kitchen. My stomach was so tight that I didn't want to eat at all.

Ben took another sip of coffee. He raised an eyebrow and looked down at the cup. He stroked the bottom of the cup with his fingers. He put his finger close to his face. I could see the piece of powder on his fingertips. The powder at the bottom must not be dissolved.

"What is this?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I had to use my voice to stop it from shaking.

Ben's jaw dropped, and then he frowned. He lifted his glass and tossed it to the other side of the kitchen. The cup hit the wall and shattered. The debris fell at my feet. I clasped my trembling arms to my chest.

"You're a fucking bastard," Ben shouted. "Do you want to kill me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. I wanted to act casual, but my voice was high-pitched.

"Okay," he said. "If you will."

He turned and rushed out of the kitchen. My heart jumped when I realized he was walking towards the bedroom. The gun is inside.

I grabbed a frying pan hanging above the sink. Throw it at Ben. I didn't aim well and bounced off his shoulder. Ben yelled and turned around. I opened one of the drawers and pulled out a knife. It's a blunt steak knife, but I need a weapon!

It wasn't the way I wanted it, but it happened.

I chased him. The way to the bedroom. I jumped on his back. When Ben tried to grab my ass, my arms wrapped around his neck. I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to stay on top of him. He gasped as my leg wrapped around him. The knife was held tightly in my hand. I tightened his neck with one arm and let him go with the hand holding the knife. With a wave of my hand, the knife stabbed into his flesh. I managed to hit him under his collarbone.

Ben screamed in pain. He turned around and slammed his back against the wall. The pain hit my spine and I let go of Ben. I fell to the ground.

Ben pulls out the knife that was inserted into the chest. Squatting in front of me. Blood oozed from his gray hoodie. His eyes were dark and his jaw was closed. The knife was in his hand.

"Everything is going well," he said. "And you screwed it all up."

"It's never a good thing," I said. "It's disgusting."

"They were disgusted with what we were doing. Diana, I love you. We love each other. There's nothing disgusting about it. ”

"I don't love you!"

Ben took a sharp breath, his shoulders stiffening. Trying to kill me.

"I've never loved you, Ben," I said. "I like you when you help me. I love you in the Caribbean. I hate you when you kill that guy. I hate you for bringing me to this hut. I wanted you dead when I found out you were the one who kidnapped me and ruined my life. ”

"I did it all for us," he said. "I know we should be together, and we'll always be together."

I kicked him hard in the stomach. The part of him that was infected, he covered his abdomen. I scurried across the floor, struggling to my feet.

"Di, don't be so ruthless!" Ben shouted.

He slashed the back of my calf with a knife. I screamed when there was a sharp, hot pain in my legs.

I stumbled and fell to my knees. Ben grabbed me by the ankle and pulled me towards him. I rolled over and lay on my back. Ben raised the blade above me. I aimed at his face with my feet. He saw my movements and dodged my kicks. I stepped on my heel and hit him in the neck.

Ben gasped and let go of the hand that was gripping my ankle. I broke free and struggled to my feet. I rushed into the kitchen.

I opened all drawers looking for a bigger knife. I pushed aside a pile of spatulas and wooden spoons and saw a butcher knife underneath. I grabbed it and slammed the drawer shut.

I turned around to see Ben walking into the kitchen. His movements were much slower than I expected. Cold sweat was already oozing from his forehead. He placed one hand on the counter and leaned against it. He closed his eyes and his breathing became weak.

"You need to settle down," Ben said. "You let it happen."

"I don't have a choice!" I say.

Ben shuffled across the floor toward me. I leaned my back against the counter and approached the door. I'm not going to let him trap me in a corner.

He put his hand aside and put the knife down. It clanged on the ground. He stretched out his hands and put them in front of me. As he stepped forward, I put the knife in front of me and got closer.

"I'm not going to stab you," he said. "I don't want to hurt you like that."

He took another step towards me. I wanted to take a step back, but was stopped by the counter. Ben's breathing became rapid as he approached me. The drug was taking possession of his body, and he was trying to resist it.

"I hope it will be different," he said. His voice was almost below a whisper. "We'll get a second chance and I hope everything will be better. I love you, Diana. I know you love me too. You're the first one to fool me, and I think Cashi feels good. I thought no one would love me after Gabi. ”

I bit my lip as I listened to Ben's incoherent gibberish. He closed his eyes as he reached behind him.

With a click, I looked down to see Ben's gun pulled out of the waist of his jeans. He must have taken it out of the bedroom before he went into the kitchen.

He raised his gun, and I leapt forward and stabbed the butcher knife into his chest. He threw the gun to the floor and grabbed me by the arm. His warm blood flowed down my hands. Ben's knee went limp, but he didn't let go of my arm. I tripped and fell on him. My hand was still on the hilt of the knife and the blade was plunged deep into his chest. Ben giggles and coughs. Blood gushed out of his mouth and splashed onto my face. A sticky scarlet covered his lips.

"Good luck, kitten," he said as he managed to regain enough breath between coughs.

I let go of the knife and shook Ben off of me. He lay on all fours on the cold floor of the kitchen. All the color on his pale skin was gone. His eyelids snapped shut, obscuring the dark blue of his eyes. The hilt moved up and down with each of his shallow breaths.

I should have picked up a gun and shot him. I make sure he dies in front of me. I knew there was no way he would survive the pills and blades, but I needed to be sure.

I picked up the gun from the floor. It was much heavier than I thought it would be, and I held it in front of me with both hands. As I aimed at Ben, my fingers flickered on the trigger. His body was almost lifeless, and he didn't know what was happening. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared to fire.

I stabbed Ben, but that's ...... Out of self-defense. His almost unconscious body was no longer a threat to me.

My goal was never to kill Ben. That's not what I wanted. I want to get out of here. I want to go home. I want to see Mom and Marcy.

Ben is no longer in the way.

I couldn't kill him. If I kill him, I'll be like three of the people I hate the most: Oliver, Bethany, and Ben.

I put the gun on the counter and took a step back from Ben's body. Ever since I woke up blind in Oliver's basement, one thing has been on my mind. I had to go home on my own. Now, finally, it's going to be successful.

I walked into the bedroom. I unzipped the front and pulled out my car keys. I could drive until I found the police station and even another house in this barren forest full of summer cottages. I threw my bag over my shoulder and walked back to the kitchen.

Ben was short of breath due to blood seeping into his throat. He was in the same place, but his hand moved to his chest.

Paper maps are on the counter. I opened it and spread it on the counter. I followed my finger along the black line in this drawing to see where we were. I rummaged through the cupboards and found a red pen. I found a way home for myself.

The map is folded up and clipped under the armpit. As I walked towards the door, I walked around Ben's body. I took one last look at Benn before I walked out.

The cold air filled my lungs and the sun was warm on my skin.

I climbed into the car, and I spread out the map on my bag. I started the car and Ben's classic rock music began to play. I switched the channel to the next stop. The hosts are arguing about what some celebrities are doing at the awards ceremony. I don't know the name of this celebrity, and I wonder how long I've been gone.

I looked in the rearview mirror. My green eyes and misshapen pupils. Ben's blood ran down my cheeks. I wiped it with my sleeve, and it turned out to be only bloodstained. My other sleeve was stained with his blood.

Covered in blood. I don't want to spend hours at some police station in Muskoka being interrogated by the police. I want to go home. I want to cry in my mother's arms.

The car was already filled with gas and I followed the directions on the map. I got on the highway and held the steering wheel tightly. It was almost noon when I set off, and I was driving while watching the sunset. My muscles hurt from sitting for too long, and I would flip through the radio stations between each song.

Thankfully, it was already dark by the time I ran out of gas. I found an empty gas station and goosebumps were all over my skin when I filled the car with gas. Entering the station, I lowered my head, threw a few bills at the counter, and left before waiting for him to give me change.

I threw the bloodstained sweater back and headed back on the highway.

As the signs around me began to become familiar, a wave of nostalgia swept over me. A smile melted into my mouth as I began to pick up speed. I realized I was finally going home. I got off the off-ramp and drove onto the streets of the city. I went back to my hometown, away from that nightmare.

See Mom's red brick house. On the concrete steps outside the wooden door are several pumpkins and gourds. The faint glow of the TV behind the living room curtains was gone. The windows of the house are all black. I glanced down at the clock on the radio and saw that it was already eleven o'clock in the evening. My mom was always the one who went to bed early.

I knocked on the door, but there was no response. I knocked again. Still no answer.

I've always had a key under my mom's big pot. I always forgot to bring my keys, and she was tired of giving me new keys all the time. I hid one under the pot, but I never told her.

I tilted the orange pot with the silver key still underneath. I picked up the key and opened the door. The nose is filled with the smell of home, which is refreshing. I ran to the bottom of the wooden staircase.

"Mom!" I shouted. "Mom! It's Diana! "I was walking up the stairs quickly when I heard the sound of someone hurrying from above. The moonlight sprinkled my mother's shadow. She was dressed in her pajamas, and her hair stood on end. When she saw me, her jaw dropped and I threw myself into her arms.

We're halfway up the stairs. My mother hugged me tightly with her arms until my bones shattered. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I sobbed and gasped. A similar sound came out of Mom's mouth. Our knees were weak and we sat on the stairs.

"Oh my God, Diana," my mom said. "I thought you were dead. I really thought you were dead. They all told me you were dead. ”

"I'm alive," I said. "I miss you so much, Mom."

The front door opened, and my heart pounded.

I'm not sure if Ben is dead. He's still alive, he's here to kill me.

The lights were on, and Marcy was standing at the front door. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and fastened to the back of her head with a thick purple headband. She was wearing a surgical gown with a stethoscope in her pocket. Her eyes widened when she saw her mom and I hugging on the stairs.

"Diana!" She shouted. "Dee, you're back. I want to know whose car is in the driveway. ”

Marcy ran up the stairs to meet us. She knelt on the steps in front of me. Her gaze swept over my blood-stained clothes, then she held my face with her hand. When she looked into my eyes, her face turned pale. Mom hasn't seen me in the light yet. She had no clue.

"Dee, what's wrong with you?" She asked. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

Mom repositioned behind me so she could see my eyes. I leaned against her and cried even harder. Marcy put her arms around us both.

"Mom, did you call the police?" Marcy asked.

"No," she said. "She got home a minute before you."

Marcy let go of us and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She dialed 9-11 and I listened to her talking to the police. Mom combed my hair with her fingers. I cried in her arms as she gently shook me.

"Diana, what the hell is wrong with you?" She asked.

As we waited for the police, I tried my best to explain everything that had happened to me since that fateful walk home.