Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

she forced her legs to run faster. Branches clawed out at her, leaving scratches along her arms, legs, and face, but she kept going. She didn’t look back; she didn’t slow down.
She wouldn’t give up; she wanted to be free too badly. She wanted so desperately to see Jules again—wanted to see all

of her loved ones again. And no matter how painful or hard it became, she would push herself forward. She would fight with every last breath she had to free herself from Johnny. She had to. There was too much to lose.
Just because Johnny had taken away her virginity and scarred her both physically and emotionally, didn’t mean she had to give up. She was still breathing; she still had a life to live. A life that she wanted

to live, as long as it was far away from Johnny and his repulsive “love

” for her.
“Skylar, I told you not to try anything!” Johnny yelled from behind her. He was getting closer—much

closer. “If you don’t stop now, I’ll kill your boyfriend! And then I’ll kill Leah and the baby. I swear I will!”
Her pace slowed as she thought about what he’d said, heart pounding painfully inside her chest. No—don’t stop. He’s just trying to mess with your head, force you back to him. Don’t fall for it again.

She gasped for air, letting out a harsh sob. Without giving it another thought, she sprinted into a run again, trying to put a vast space between them both.
But as she raced for her life in the darkness, she lost her footing and tripped over a stump in the way, tumbling down a steep incline of ground. She wheezed as the breath was knocked out of her, and tried in vain to protect her head from the impact. When she reached the bottom of the hill, her body ached thunderously, and the cuts and gashes along her skin seared in pain. Her ankle throbbed, as if it had been torn apart, and she bit back the urge to scream in agony, knowing that Johnny could locate her easily if she did.
Her vision was specked with fuzzy lights, and she had to blink a few times to see clearly again. She tried to push herself back on her feet, but as soon as she put pressure on her ankle she fell down again, screeching from the pain. Get up, get up!

She tried to crawl back onto her feet, but again it only resulted in her falling back against the packed soil of the damp ground. He’s going to find you! Go!

Grinding her teeth together against the pain, she pushed herself up and stumbled to her feet, hopping on the uninjured ankle. She wobbled along the unsteady ground, her ankle screaming in protest to the little weight she put on it, as fresh tears rolled down her dirty cheeks. She could hear Johnny’s harsh calls above her, but only vaguely as the pain she was feeling overwhelmed all of her senses and blurred her vision. She could only push away exhaustion for so long before it took over her completely. And time was about out.
“There you are,” a harsh, bitter voice spoke from beside her. “I knew I’d catch up to you eventually.” Her breath hitched when Johnny slammed his fist into her side, knocking her off her feet. “You shouldn’t have tried to run, Princess. Now I’m going to have to hurt you again. And after everything, I thought you’d learned a lesson. Do I have to take you again to make you see you’ll never get away from me?”
She spat at his feet, sneering, “You’re pathetic.”
In an instant he was in front of her, pressing her into the ground as his fingers dug into her shoulders, pinning her in place. “Those words are going to cost you.”
She fought him as best as she could, thrashing under his weight. “Get off of me, Johnny!” she screamed, breathlessly. “Get your filthy

hands off me!” She beat her fists against his chest, desperate to cause him some

sort of discomfort.
He captured her fists in his hands and laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I warned you there would be consequences. And since you broke your promise, it’ll be even worse. You’re not going to like this—at all.”
She spat at him again, anger overpowering every other emotion she felt. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away, working to catch her breath. Her hands and legs were shaking, and her entire body quivered in the aggression of Johnny’s anger. “Go to hell.”
“Ouch, Skylar,” he snapped, snickering, “that stings.” He brought his lips against her ear, quietly saying, “Too bad I’ve already been there.”
With as much air as she could get in her lungs, she screamed in his ear, sure that it would at least cause a little damage. He growled and covered his ear with one hand, while the other gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head. She tried to block out an oppressing wave of fear that eclipsed her when his dark, murderous eyes shot daggers back at her.
Pulling his hand away from his ear, he fumbled with something in his pocket and pulled it out, silver flashing in the darkness. Skye’s blood ran cold. And she was just about to scream again when he covered her mouth with his hand—the one holding the knife—and sneered, “Be quiet! Or I’ll make this even worse than it’s already going to be.”
She glared at him, trying to buck her hands free from his grip, but he was too strong and she was too weak, and it did no good. Her heart clamored around in her chest as he carefully pulled his hand away from her mouth, holding it above her stomach. When she realized what he was about to do, she shook her head, begging him with her eyes to stop.
He didn’t care. And before she could so much as let one word out, he plunged the knife into her stomach, creating the worst, most excruciating pain she’d ever experienced before. She could feel it tearing apart her flesh from the inside, and let out a shrill, ear-piercing scream, choking on her own blood.
She whimpered when he yanked it out, coughing and spitting out blood. “I-I’m sorry I-I s-screamed,” she spluttered, cringing against the bitter taste of blood in her mouth. “Please—d-don’t d-do anything m-more.”
He slapped her, the force of the blow tossing her face to the side. “I’m sorry, Princess, but I must.” He gripped her face in his hand once before he slapped her again, driving her face the other way.
She whimpered, weakly flexing her jaw as blood dribbled from her mouth. “I—” She couldn’t get another word out, too weak, too abused

, to even mutter one simple word. Her jaw ached thunderously and her bleeding stomach felt ripped apart, burning pain plaguing the torn flesh. Jules

, she tried to say, please—help me

.
Johnny’s fist collided with her side, causing her breath to falter. “You shouldn’t have lied to me. I told you not to do this. Why didn’t you listen?” His hot breath bathed the side of her face, and sent chills down her spine. He began to strip her clothing, ripping it apart, exposing her wounds to the bite of humidity in the air, and ran the blade along her collarbone, hard enough to pierce the skin a little.
And just when she thought everything was going to be over, just when she was about to give in to the weight of exhaustion and pain that burdened her beaten body, there was a soft cry in the distance—a familiar one. And before she could say anything, or cry desperately for help, Johnny’s hand reached out and covered her mouth again, this time enclosing her nose too, making it hard for her to breathe.
“Dammit,” he muttered, removing his hands from her wrists. His eyes locked on hers, and his lips quivered into a frown. “I never wanted it to be this way, Princess—you have to believe when I tell you I never wanted it to come to this. But if I can’t have you—then no one can.” And with those words ringing in Skye’s ears, he clasped both of his hands around her neck, cutting off her air supply.
She let out a straggled cry for help, and with her now freed hands, gripped onto Johnny’s arms, desperately trying to push him away. White specks started to spot her vision but she fought back, willing herself to stay awake, to stay alive

. That familiar voice was Jules’s; she was sure of it. But soon it wouldn’t matter . . .
She gave up the fight and her heart slowed, thundering inside her chest.
Her world became distorted; darkness eclipsed her entire body . . .
But in the same moment that she was sure she was going to die, Johnny was thrown off of her and she gasped for air to breathe, coughing and sputtering blood. Vaguely she heard, in the haze of her unclear head, grunts and growls as two men fought each other, and faraway sounds of people shouting. And when she turned her head to the side to see what was going on, her heart sank.
Jules was fighting Johnny, beating him, sneering words she couldn’t quite decipher, and all too quickly Johnny overpowered him, rolling onto his stomach and slamming his fist into Jules’s face a few times before wrapping his hands around Jules’s throat. He was still fighting Johnny while he strangled him, but in the fog of her mind she could tell that he was about to lose, all because of her. All because he was trying to protect weak, helpless her

.
Jules was about to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
He turned his face towards her, mouthing “I love you”, before his eyes drooped shut and a sob trembled from Skye’s mouth.
The last thing she acknowledged before her drained body shut itself down was the sound of a gunshot ringing across the cloudy, early morning sky.

Awake

VICTOR’S HEART FELT ANCHORED DOWN.
From a strong, unrelenting pull in the back of his mind he was being torn in a dozen different directions. Part of him longed to abandon his seat in the hospital’s waiting area so that he could go speak with Rachel and find out how she was feeling, and