You Killed Me First

by John Marrs

and he all but suggested I was being racist, which is ridiculous. I’d swap a kidney for a date with Idris Elba.

I’m not entirely convinced Liv didn’t say that on purpose. And if I’m right, I think I like her already.

But even after a few minutes in her company, I recognise her type. I’ve met a thousand versions of her in my time. Their narrowed eyes bore holes into you, searching for a flaw to help them feel better about themselves.

I’m quietly relieved when their kids hurry in the direction of a group of young people they recognise. I’ve tried and it’s not their fault, but I will never feel comfortable around them.

‘It might have been a while since you had your kids, but I bet we can still get your pre-baby body back in no time.’ I cover my smile with my hand. Margot’s kids are her stepchildren.

‘Planning to end your life and actually doing it are two very different things.’

I swallow a couple of painkillers for the headache that’s been stalking me like a charity worker rattling a can in the high street.

You don’t have to understand something to accept it. You don’t know how a rocket flies into space, but you accept that it does.’

But I deserved more than a life that was dependent on, determined and financed by men.

Nicu got away lightly, all things considered. But men so often do, compared to women. Suggest a historical sexual assault by a male celebrity and the first thing social media wants to know is either ‘Why did you wait so long to report it?’ or ‘How much money are you trying to get from him?’ Not, ‘I’m sorry that happened to you, how can I show you my support?’

cancel culture always sides with the accuser above the defendant.

Each had a virtually identical appearance – the girls with their fake tans, fake lips, fake hair, fake teeth and fake tits, and the boys with their pumped-up pecs, sleeves of tattoos, and bodies so waxed they resembled china dolls from their steroid-plumped necks down.

And all these years later, I remain the only person in the world who knows I was there that night.

Now, as I look around Liv’s perfect house, with her perfect husband and with her perfect life, I find myself resenting her more than ever. Maybe it’s unfair, but I can’t help myself. I should have a better life than the one I’m living. All I did was fall in love with the wrong person.

I wasn’t wearing the appropriate footwear for a trip down memory lane.

‘In my experience, people only admit the truth to ease their conscience. Don’t make yourself feel better by making her feel worse.’

If I’d known that back then, I wouldn’t have set fire to you. I’d have snatched Warren’s gun from his hand and shot you straight between the fucking eyes. I’d have made certain that I killed you first.