Fast
We should remember that things will never be as we wish. There nothing wrong with this, if the results were positives.
But we can learn good things when we’re one step closer to die and, ready for our last breathe, and yet something is still making us scared and not allowing us to die in peace...
January, 1982.
The blade is craved in his stomach and he feels it passing through after each puffy breath.
It’s enormous, probably a buthcer’s knife. He doesn’t even know how come he’s still alive!
Blood jorra and, within it, a piece of his soul leaves him after each cardiac pulsating.
Pain does not exist anymore. The cold is terrible and the man can’t feel anything else from his waist to the feet. He can’t identify his headsman’s face because there’s too much darkness in front of him.
Everything was too fast. He was caught unprotected and now it means his death, in between that dark and stincky alley, between the dustbins and the fire stairs of the old building.
When he was about to close his eyes for a warm and simple death, the hot flush gets him right in the face. He opens his eye lids and the liquid burns his eyes. The damn man is pissing on him!
Into his silent indignation, he can’t even notice his antagonist unbuckling his belt and, pull after pull, taking off his pants...
December, 2010.
It’s been 28 years that a strange feeling is taking over Arthur. This anxiety is always stronger in this period of the year, but it’s always there since he was a young baby.
It’s something that grows through his back, a shiver, a disconfort, that, little by little, fulfills him inside.
When he is alone, Arthur knocks his head on the wall, softly and repeatedly, trying to solve the misconfort this feeling causes. It generally works, but some days after it the feeling keeps on disturbing him.
The psychiatric visits didn’t work at all. Neither the medicines they precribed did.
His relationships lasted a few time and, now, he divides a small apartment with his thoughts only.
January, 2011.
Arthur is unemployeed. Some employeers had to be cut off of the office in which he worked.
With part of the money from his rescission, he bought a butchers knife which he carries under his overcoat wherever he goes.
It’s cold that night, below zero degrees celsius, but he doesn’t matter. He needs to blow his mind up, he can’t stand the pression of the feeling that scares him anymore.
The street is empty. Arthur walks three kilometers until a dark alley.
A dormouse passes by him running and crawling its feet, but Arthur didn’t even notice it.
His eyes are fixed at a ragamuffin creature, lying ten meters far from where he is. Steam comes from the person’s breathe and condensates itself in the air. If he stands there, he’ll die of hypothermia soon.
Arthur quickly walks towards the man and, with no thoughts, craves the butcher’s knife in his abdomen, turning it in circles in there, to maximize the damage. Happy, the murderer noticed he’s saving that man from a cold and lonely death. He smiled, feeling the weight of the world out of his shoulders.
Standing up, Arthur opens his pants zipper and starts urinating on the indigent magaruffing. Next, he lowers himself and start taking off the man’s pants...
In this moment, the eyes of the amost dead mean open. A red, injected luminosity look at him. Without opening his mouth, words could be heard in Arthur’s mind:
- Cursed demon! Our paths have been meeting for generations in a dark alley in which you keep killing me and takes out my honor. It doesn’t have an end anymore! We’ll live until the end of times changing places in this abject activity – one killing and taking out the other’s honor after each generation. Peaceless soul, with no understanding of who started it all, only keeping going with this revenge.
After these words, the indigent falls dead in front of Arthur. In a state of complete mandness, he takes his hand towards his chest, on a death struggle, falling dead beside the already dead man next, on a great blood pool.
December, 2020.
David’s tenth birthday party’s on January, but in this period of the year a strange and oppressive feeling takes over him and even more over his mind, naturally disturbed since he was a young baby.
It’s something that grows through his back, a shiver, a disconfort, that, little by little, fulfills him inside. When he’s alone, David knocks his head softly and repeatedly on the wall...
Unfortunately, there was no God to take this suffer to na end.
And, this waym, both souls kept on this peregrination, entering body after body during the centuries, killing the other pitilessly, changing the abject places sometimes, on an endless and unknown start revenge, in which only hate has lasted in their miserable lives.