The honey of the most beautiful flower II.

Do not misunderstand me, for me was that wild flower so delicate that it seemed that if you touched it would crumble, I had the need to protect it, to care for it, not to hurt him and much less let it hurt.

The next afternoon I returned to the park with hardly any pain, since I had even in my head those horrible images, disgusted me to remember, as always she arrived at the same time and sat where it was, he came and sat, the kiss almost vomited but I did not to suspect , she went at the same time as usual and the boy sat there, I decided to go and talk to him, after a little chat I buy him a drink in a tavern that was just around the corner, I accept the only thing I could think at that time was poor dreamy , you don't know what's waiting for you.

We spent about three hours in the tavern drinking and playing poker, when I was drunk enough I decided to offer to take him home and he accepted, I was so drunk that neither account was given that we were not going to his house, if not to mine. Being at home I took him to the single room of the house and ate him to a chair and let him sit there drunk, in the morning when he woke up he was still a little drunk, but now he was able to think and realize that for obvious reasons was not his House, I just took a chair and sat in front of him, I remember writhing in pain with just seeing my eyes full of anger, what he did not know is that it was not anger that reflected my eyes if not pain, seeing how he played so carelessly to that So delicate flower.

Same time I always went back to the park, I must admit that I saw his discontent in his eyes when I came to the place and that idiot was not there, but his face changed to see a small note that left in the position where the idiot sat next to her.

 "Oh My little wild flower, delicate and fragile, I will not let anyone hurt you, I assure you, but for that should end the life of that idiot who wants to hurt you, he does not know how to treat a flower as beautiful as you and I assure you that I can treat you and care as such, but you must trust me, you are that flower that must be inside a glass box, that flower that can only be seen and not touched. I'll make sure you're safe in that glass box, my beautiful flower. Att: The flower keeper  ".

That afternoon he left long before all those days, what happened to my flower?, did not you like the beautiful letter I wrote?, did you want to go and think about those words?, I just know that I saw you run and run and not stop. The next day I went back to the park and I saw that this time you weren't there, what happened to him? In that was the only thing I thought, curiously I approached the place where he sat every day and there I could see a sheet of paper that looked like a letter.  "I don't know who the hell you are, but I beg you to leave me alone, I don't want to be cared for, I want to be with the guy you think will hurt me, he's good for me and you're not, so if you really want to protect me then let me be with him " Oh My little those words I They hurt to the bottom, you have no idea how much, when reading that I assure you that I went crazy, at that time I became an insane being with thirst for love.

I came home, went to the kitchen, took a knife and went to the room where the idiot was, he tried to scream but no one would listen, I remember how the knife first pierced his arm and then slid slowly to reach his hand , being there I decided to make him suffer more, so I cut his fingers, one for every kiss that was given and I could appreciate, seven fingers disappeared by magic, he kept screaming, crying, fighting the pain but all that was in vain , I admit that at that time I felt more alive than ever, I left it all night lying there, writhing in pain, that was the Buco thought.

In the morning I was already sick so I decided to have a little mercy so I killed him, a single cut clean by his windpipe and already, everything was that easy.

In the afternoon I returned to the usual time to the park, she was sitting there with fear in her eyes, the poor girl feared who was trying to protect her, that afternoon I did not go home when she left, I decided to follow her, see where she lived , I came to the door of his house and decided why not know his house inside so take a stone and throw it against a window and enter, I remember that beautiful fear in my eyes, I loved that feeling. What did I do when I was inside your house? Easy, release the boy's body to one side of it, my flower could not believe that really that was the guy I was dating, what I said was that for every kiss that was given to the front of me had cut a finger , she began to cry, I told her to calm down that from now on no one would hurt him again and at that time she did not feel any more pain.

What do you want me to tell you? Well yes, if I kill her, I'm not a murderer, the killers kill for resentment, I kill for passion, I killed her so that no one would hurt him again, I did not hate her I loved her and love makes us commit crazy things for the person we love , if you want to blame me or try to be crazy for the simple fact that she did not suffer again, because I plead guilty to having loved those eyes honey and that hair that danced with the wind. I Kill for love, not for hate, just for love and that's why I'm not crazy I'm just in love.