The woman and the man have just met, but they are already very much in love. A discussion about love at first sight three hours earlier has led to this. Neither one of them believed in it. They're still not quite sure that they do and in their heads they both try to convince themselves that this is not love. It is something else. Something close to love, which with a little help of alcohol feels just like it. But no matter how much they try, they would have to admit it sooner or later. If they could just get the chance to look back at this moment in a couple of months at dinner with friends or family they would both confess to this being love at first sight and the others would remind them of how they didn't believe in that. But they won't get that chance.

I knew she was the one as soon as she walked in to the bar. That glow, that aura, radiating out from her very soul. I needed her and no one else. None of the others I had seen earlier that evening even came close to what she would mean to me. She would set me free.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" I asked her an hour after she had arrived. Finding courage to speak to others has never been a problem, but she was different. My feet became rooted to the ground as I tried to walk over to her, my drink ran down my cheek, neck and on to my shirt as my mouth refused to open out of fear that I would try to speak to her. Finally, after almost having to use my hands to lift my legs I made it to that spot next to her. That it wasn't already taken was a miracle. Did they not see what I saw in her? Freedom from it all. Freedom to love and freedom to move on to a better life.

She laughed at me and said "No." She looked at me again and I must have looked hurt because she apologized for laughing. Almost unaware of my existence from then on she turned around to the other man. She bought him a drink and they talked about love at first sight and all I could do was stand there and listen, unable to once again move my feet or talk. I wanted to die, but my body would not let me. It kept me alive, unable to move or talk, but able to listen to their conversation and see them fall deeper and deeper for one another. She was supposed to be my freedom, but instead she trapped even more. This torture went on for what felt like days and I had never longed more for my home where at least the suffering was familiar to me.

Not until they got ready to leave did the rest of my body come back to life. My coat was still hanging where I had left it and in what must have seemed like a very strange and determined wide u-turn I grabbed it and left, almost running as soon as I came outside. I had to get home where I would be punished for returning empty-handed. And this time it would be severe. It knew what had happened. It always did. It wanted freedom too and it knew that with her it would get it. It would be very angry. And it would take it out on me as always. It scares me. I have to make it stop. I cannot return home empty-handed.

According to the news reports the man was found not far from where I used to live. Bruised and beaten beyond recognition, but two tattoos and a t-shirt he got from his younger brother for Christmas helped his family identify him. DNA samples later confirmed their identification. The woman he was seen leaving the bar with has not been found and the authorities are still looking for her. In one newspaper one day she is a witness, in another paper another day a suspect.

Did I do it? I don't know. Probably. I have no real memories of the rest of the night and I have no interest in having them either. I am free now, I know that much. But there are nights when I dream of her screaming and I have never heard anything like it. Primal, devoid of all humanity, she is screaming with every inch of her being. And I wake up. Free.