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by my client gave it away. If you have written it by a differ hand, I would not have noticed." I explained with a tip of my hat. Clearly, I made her angry, angry at herself.

 

The woman yelled and lashed out her knife, the shine of the blade twinkled in the moonlight and the faded lights of London. She began to charge like a wild animal but being the man, I dodged, sending her down on the ground.

 

She got up from the ground, no hesitation, I could not see her face for she had it covered very well, with only two holes for her dark eyes to see. I lashed out my knife, it was bigger than her's considering mine was more kitchen knife than a mere picking knife. How she managed to kill her victims with that little knife I will never indeed know.

 

"You, are not bad my lady." I said in my aristocratic tone, I noticed she had managed to cut a piece of my clothing. It laid abandonded on the ground, near me. I picked it up and placed the cut clothe in my pocket. I will give no Scotland Yard investigators clues, not even a a drop of my own blood.

 

"Why I thank you sir Ripper, but you must forget, I am a woman by birth, one scream can send the whole awake and you will be captured." Shadowwoman said with a smirk grin. Horror and surprise struck my heart for I knew she was right, dead right.

 

***

 

She started to scream but I ran fast to her and covered her mouth with my black-gloved hand. I was left handed so I covered her with my right. She muffled her screams, I pushed my hand deeper towards her mouth, she gave up and kneed me on my private and vulnerable part.

 

I staggered back and placed my hands over my private part, I had no idea why I or any other men do this, it doesn't heal the bruise that may come in. But damn, it hurt so.

 

"Looks like I've found your weakness. 'Tis every man's weakness and worse nightmare, no surprise there." Shadowwoman said with a smile oh so devilish. I striaghtened up and completely ignored the throbbing pain.

 

"But here is where you are wrong, I am no cryer." I said with a grin. I recieved a screech from the female killer and once again a charge from her.

 

***

 

Finally, after fighting, dodging each other's attack, I was able to ge the small pathetic knife out of her reach and my knife right under her throat, my signature killing blow. Victory was all mine.

"You wouldn't hurt your own lover now would you?" She asked in her sweetest tone of voice. I staggered back, taken aback. She turned to face me and took off her disguise. "Hello love, miss me?"

 

I could not believe what I was seeing. I did not want to believe it, and no longer did I want to see it. I should have stayed a home, I should have let Scotland Yard find her, it would have been better than me finding out or...worse.

 

As if my body had betrayed my mind, my legs began to carry me towards the woman with red-hair, the one who called me "love". My one hand without a knife reached up to touch her bright red cheek, still my mind was going all sorts of crazy places, like a man drunk.

 

"Julianna?"

The Heart


PLOT

 

Darren is a well-known bully, being neither popular nor at the bottom of the food-chain. His therapist, Dr. Ian James is the only person who knows why Darren bullies alot.   This is for EverAfterDarling's contest "Megan's Contest" my number is 12: A bully, a therapist, and a dying heart A/N: This is based on my former bible study leader's friend whose father gave up his heart so his son will live

 

STORY

 

"Did you get it all done?" Darren asked coldly, his hand clentched into a fist, ready to strike if the boy shook his head no. The boy's name is Gerald, he's top nerd and everyone, not including the teachers, knew that Darren will force Gerald to do all his work. "Well?"

 

Gulping, Gerald meekly shook his head "no" without any hesitation Darren swung his fist into the boy's face, punching his jaw. A loud crack erupted the hall as everyone gathered to see him pulverise poor Gerald, no matter how many times we tried to apologize or cover his face and body, Darren was stronger and he liked the thrill of hitting people weaker and smaller than him.

 

Darren left the boy, nearly dead and even more terrified for life. A smirk/scoff crept up on his face as he walked down the halls and into his first class.

 

As it went by, Darren looked out of the window in a daze, his seat was always right in the middle and near the window, and no one, not even the teachers dare move him from his seat, they knew well what would happen. Darren's family is highly rich, with his father as a cop and his mother a fasion designer for both men and women, nothing bad will happen to Darren.

 

At least, that's what everyone thinks.

 

***

 

"So Darren, how are you feeling today?" Dr. Ian James, Darren's therapist asked in a profession tone. Darren sighed looking up at the ceiling above him. He was lying down on a red velet narrow bed at a therapy office. Silence filled the room as Darren thought about the doctor's question.

 

How was he feeling? Did he feel good? Worse? Sick? Thrilled? Darren never knew how he felt. How was he suppose to feel? If only there was a button that he can push so it could give him that emotion he wants to feel. Desires to feel.

 

"I guess I'm fine." Darren said not looking away from the ceiling. Dr. James nodded before writing down something on his clipboard.

 

"And, how are you and your parents dealing with your situation?" He asked. That triggered something in Darren's mind and he turned his attention to his therapist. His eyes darkened and his lips curled into a tight frown. Sadness crawled all over him.

 

Darren shook his head sadly, "they're too busy and too tired after a long day's work to listen what I've got to say. I never told them I bully people let alone about my condition".

 

After a long silence, Dr. James looked down at his clipboard and wrote something else before he excused Darren out the door. Watching the young boy walk home, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He loved the boy as if he were his own. He do anything for Darren.

 

Anything.

 

***

 

*Several Weeks Later*

 

It's time Darren thought to himself, taking a deep breathe. his cousin, Cody was there but he needed to tell his parents the truth and both were having a two week off. Darren could feel his heart beat faster which pained him more. For the past few days, Darren was bed-ridden due to sickness. His parents thought it was the flu but he knew it was much more; much, much more.

 

Taking a deep breathe, Darren descended from the upstairs and came down to see his mother and father drinking coffee while his cousin was grabbing a bite to eat. Nervousness struck him, not only will he tell about the bullyings and possibly being grounded for years and years to come, but he'll also need to tell about his condition.

 

"Mom, dad, can I talk to you?" Darren asked, hoping they will pay attention to him for once and not brag about what a good student he was and how he'll go into Havard and become a rich businessman, a CEO.

 

His father was the first to look up at his son and nod, "yes son, what is it"?

 

"Mom, dad, I've been bullying people from my sch...." But before he could finish, his father shot up, his fist hitting the table with such force Darren was surprised that the table was still standing.

 

"You are grounded young man! Until you get into Havard and graduated. Did you kill anyone? I've had the right of mine to whip your arse with my belt!" His father roared. Shaking terribly now, Darren sighed when he was being sent to his room and not to come out until dinner was ready.

 

As Darren began walking, he stopped and turned around, walking towards them. He ignored his father's glare and his cousin's scoff. His mother completely ignored him.

 

"I thought I..." His father growled but Darren shouted his reponse before he could finish what he wanted to say.

 

"I have heart-failure!"

 

***

 

A deathly silence filled the room making Darren feel more and more afraid about what his parents and cousin will say next. Will they believe him or not?

 

"So...the...the pills in you're room, when I found them and asked if they were drugs, you said "yes" but they were actually your medication?" His mother asked in near tears.

 

Darren could not speak a single word so he nodded. That triggered his mother, she dropped her coffe, the glass shattering all over the floor and the liquid ruining the tiled floor. Getting up from her seat, she hugged her only son, her only son that was dying.

 

"Why didn't you tell us?" Cody asked, not wanting to believe a single word that his little cousin, who he considers as his brother, was dying of a heart-failure.

 

"I...I was afriad..." He mumbled squishing himself against his mother, sobbing as the rest of his family gather into the small circle to embrace him.

 

***

 

Ian James paced back and forth into his living room thinking. The last time Darren called, he had told his parents a few days ago along with the bullyings and now he's at the hospital, getting worse and worse. When the news came to Ian that Darren might be unplugged from Life Support, sorrow struck him.

 

Collasping on the couch, Ian buried his face in his hands and sobbed for both the boy and his family. He was so young and had so much left to live for. After a few minutes of sobbing, Ian lifted his head up, his eyes filled with determination.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

 

 

***

 

Walking inside the hospital where Darren was staying, Ian passed his room to hear a woman, his mother sobbing "my baby, my baby boy". Ian tried his best not to let his own tears fall but he could not help himself. Darren was like a son to him and Darren loved him in return often visiting him even when he didn't have therapy.

 

Making his way to the desk, he demanded to see the head doctor. The lady working behind the desk nodded and summonded the head doctor to come see Ian immeditately.

 

"Ah, Dr. James, how are you this fine evening?" Dr. Trevor Moore asked, shaking hands with the therapist who smiled and shook back.

 

"I am well, do you know Darren Foxworth?" Ian asked. Dr. Trevor nodded sadly. He knew who Ian was talking about, the dying patient. "Yes, well, I would ask if you could do something for me."

 

"Anything my friend, what

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