The flames have greedily devoured the logs, their appetite satiated. I know they will die when there is nothing left to burn. This is how I feel. Burned out. Like my insides have been emptied and now, the shell that is me is sitting in a darkened room trying to make sense of it all.
But how do you make sense of betrayal? How can I make sense of all that happened before I got in here, hiding myself from every living thing in this house I used to call home? It feels like the time is passing slowly as if it were afraid that if it sped on things, I would be more confused than I am now.
Everything in my head is jumbled and the voice in my head jabbers, not letting me think clearly. Questions scurry in my mind and overfill it, making me feel giddy. As I look inside the fire, feelings gather inside my stomach.
Anger, frustration, guilt, make it harder to become rational again.
I try to calm them down, but I can`t, especially because what makes me feel this way, is on the other side of the room, lying helpless on the floor.
I try to get up to see her once more. I couldn`t look at her after what had happened, and I remember dragging here there, out of my sight. What I can`t remember is how was I capable of such gruesome crime? How can an honest, kind man who wouldn`t hurt any soul, especially the one who he loved with all his heart become a monster and commit such thing? I think that`s what happens when the one you loved the most betrays you and carves into your heart without you knowing.
Slowly, as I walk closer and closer, hesitatingly, I see her.
Her eyes stare coldly at me, as cold as ice, and make the pain heart-rending. I can`t stand anymore, as I remember what happened. I kneel unable to bear my feelings. When I saw her lovely pale skin, stained with her own blood, I remembered her face when I caught her whom I considered my friend, my closest friend I had had.
She ran away when she saw the anger in my eyes. After I had left “my friend” alone, his soul slowly leaving his body, I searched for her and found her in this very room.
I know someone has already found his cold, lifeless body in our bedroom and called the police. I`ve heard the scream of terror echoing through the house.
They`re coming after me.
The sound of their footsteps seems like blacksmiths banging hammers at the same time against hot iron.
They finally came.
As they stared shocked, terrified, at my work of art, her body lying bleak and cold on the floor, they took me away. If someone asked me in that moment who I was, I would just stare blankly at that person, thinking and trying to consider how it would feel to know. Without knowing, I grinned and realised that all that was left inside me is darkness…