Homewrecker

67 - 𝓫𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼

I collapsed, dropping the knife onto the ground as my vision started to blur and I heard my pulse throbbing in my ears, everything in me vibrating for the brief moment before I noticed out of the corner of my eye him picking up the knife from beside my foot. I felt the tip piercing through my arm as he tried to turn me onto my back, his thighs straddled around my waist, and I heard him accidentally stab himself after he pulled the knife out of my arm.

I was halfway onto my side, knowing that he got me onto my back there was nothing stopping him from slashing my throat. But then, as the blade grazed me again, I remembered that one scene from the climax Get Out, and as he raised the knife over his head, able to turn me onto my back, I reached my hand up and forced my palm through the knife.

It was either that or my guttural screaming that seemed to catch him off guard, his grip around the handle of the pocketknife slipping so I was able to pull it back with my hand, blood dripping down my wrist and splattering over my face as I planted my one foot near my hip, like the self-defense videos I had seen.

I thrust my hip up from the ground, propelling my core against him and then stepping my shoes over his chest while grabbing his arm to get my legs over his torso and his neck. The pocketknife was still in my palm as I held tight on his hand with his arm in between my thighs and then I pushed my hips up off the ground, still clutching his hand.

The sound of his bone snapping echoed underneath his yell.

I pushed myself away from me, a sharp pain dragging through my hand before I pulled the blade out of my palm and used my other hand to hoist myself up from the ground, clutching on the crinkled bark of a nearby tree. He was on the ground, curled into a fetal position, for another moment before he brought himself up with his legs, his arm clutched against his chest.

"What's your problem?" he yelled, still grunting at the pain and nearly doubling over. "I just wanted to see your phone."

"Yeah?" I exhaled, pulling out my phone from the pocket in my leggings and holding it up for him to see the call I had placed to Officer Porterfield and casting a pale light against his face. Blood from my hand was smudging against the screen as I chucked it further into the woods, then gave him the briefest look before I started to run in the opposite direction, forcing him to choose.

I thought, with the broken arm, he would choose the phone.

But then I was struck down on the ground again by the shovel crashing against my back before it pulled back, and because he wasn't able to grasp it with both arms, the impact was lessened and I able to hoist myself back onto my feet before I felt the steel toe of his boot forcefully thrust against my ribs. Pain shot up my arm from where he had stabbed me before as I fell back against my side, the wind knocked out of me as I gasped and he kicked again.

I sputtered, coughing as he pulled his leg back against and I grasped onto his ankle, scratching at his skin as his foot rammed back into my stomach, pushing me against the trunk of a fallen tree. He tried to stomp his boot against my face, but I dodged it, feeling my collarbone crack underneath it instead. He kicked me again as I felt my hand along the ground for the pocketknife I had dropped, but there was nothing but twigs and pinecones brushing against my hand.

I wriggled my chest away from him, turning on my side so that my back was toward him and I was facing the bark of the fallen tree. He kicked my back another three times before the twigs started to snap underneath his shoes as he walked away, and then I heard the shovel dragging against the dirt.

I was still sputtering, not able to catch my breath, and when I tried to get up after rolling over onto my back, he stomped his boot against my chest with so much force I felt something cracking.