This is one of the short stories i have written a couple of years ago. It's shorter than the first one and i hope it's better! Review away and don't be merciful!!!
The song.
I looked outside the tainted window. Droplets of rain came crashing on it. Thunder and lightning dominated the night. Hope, happiness and love. What are these words? I have already forgotten them. The grim and hopeless surroundings seemed to suit my mood. As I lifted my frail body from the rickety wooden chair, I looked outside through the window for the second time.
All that I saw are trees and grass swaying roughly in the wind. They were obviously being commanded by the storm winds. I felt exactly like those trees and grass. My life was being carried away by grief and sadness. No matter what I do, I am still wasting away.
…………….
“Three years ago…”
“Albert, your father just passed away this morning,” said mother calmly.
I just arrived back home and I was bombed with this horrible news? Wow, talk about bad timing. What happened? Tell me something!
All this while, my father was my pillar of strength and love. He was strong and healthy. He seemed he would live forever. All those abs and muscles gave him a macho look and was unstoppable in arm wrestling. Hundreds of times I challenged him. None I won.
“He died in a car crash. A lorry smashed into his car while he was driving back from work. He passed away immediately,” mother told as if she is reading my mind. “At least he felt nothing in the end and died peacefully.”
I thought I would cry but it did not come. Why? I did not know.
The following months were difficult on me. I started to skip school and got left behind in my studies. I began anti-socializing and all my old friends seemed very distant. My weight dropped drastically and soon I was a walking corpse. Nightmares attacked me every time I sleep. Eternal darkness and monsters were constantly destroying my sleep. I tried to stay awake, to prevent the nightmares from occurring again for the thousandth time. Black rings appeared under my blood shot eyes. Still, tears did not come.
…………..
Every night, I lie alone on my bed with my face on a blue pillow. I have tried to suffocate myself many times before .Somehow I could not finish the job. Something or someone inside me prevented me from doing it. Why can’t I do it? Tears? None still.
Mother tried to help me after a few months. She cried and suffered too but she got over it. Well, it was a different story for me. Therapist after therapist I went, counselor after counselor I visited, doctor after doctor I met. Nothing worked. All that I know was that infinite evil was controlling me. Mom even tried to talk to me but I refused profusingly. Soon negative and evil thoughts bombarded my mind. I wanted to kill other people, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. I wanted to force them to feel the misery that I felt. I tried to fight it but the desire was too great. My spiritual shield broke. I started to plan the murder.
…………….
How long ago was father’s death? No idea. All those memories were lost. Total evil has consumed me just like cancer. I am going to kill someone. I wanted the person to feel what I felt when Father passed away. I do not care who but I will murder someone. Tonight will be the night. Will I feel guilty after the murder? Maybe. But guiltiness is for weak and cowardly people. I tried to push away those thoughts. I lust for blood and fear of others. I have changed into a monster. Even now I did not shed tears for Father’s death.
I continued to stare at the window. There are no signs of the storm stopping. Looks like I am getting wet later. No matter, I can still pull off the kill. As I turned to return to the wooden chair, I saw my old and dusty guitar lying against the wall. Before Father died, I was passionate in playing it but now it seemed so childish. I remembered that Father supported me in playing the guitar and paid quite a sum for my music classes. All those time and money are now wasted as the guitar was gathering dust for a long time.
As I sat on the chair, a thought came to mind. I wonder if I can still play. I grabbed the guitar from the corner and tried to blow off the blanket of dust. The strings are still intact and tuned. The colour of the surface have faded away but still in good condition. I started to play a few simple songs that came to mind randomly. Then, I remembered Father’s favorite song. I have forgotten the name but I think I can play the rhythm. I fumbled a bit but it was still okay.
I was surprised when the beautiful song soothed my mind. As I played, I felt… Err… What was that feeling again? Happiness? Perhaps. It does not matter because it filled my heart with warmth. I remembered the memories when I played this rhythm for Father. When he was down in the drains and felt despair, he would ask me to play it. The fast and catchy tune really was addicting for Father. His broad smile and jolly face came to my mind.
Happy memories with Father came washing back, my first fishing trip, my first swim in the pool and much more. I smiled at all those good times. The urge to kill others was far gone. The song ended but its tune was still ringing in mind. Then, I did something that was extremely important in my whole entire life. I cried.
