Monsters are real. I met one, when I was 11 years old. I became one, years later. I am manipulative, controlling, and calculating. My mind is filled with noise and my heart with hatred.
I didn't expect her, though. I fell for her fast and hard, but...
She didn't speak to me for 16 hours. I counted each minute in those, waiting for her to at least look at me once. But she didn't. The food I had prepared for breakfast and lunch remained on the side table untouched. She just kept staring at the ceiling with a far away look on her face. If there was a way to reduce her pain, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But I had no idea how to help her.
"Aina, I can hear your stomach growling. Look, I ordered your favorite pineapple-on-chicken pizza. Please have some slices," I placed the box beside her and sat down on the bed. She didn't respond to me.
"I know you are mad at me," I sighed. "But, please eat something. Don't punish yourself like this. Whatever you decide to do, whichever side you want to be on - with me or against me; you will need your strength. So, I am requesting you to eat something. Okay?"
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I turned to leave but stopped when I heard, "Did you eat?" I shook my head and said, "No."
"Sheru!!" She shouted and the loyal pet jumped on the bed beside her. "He loves the edges of the crust," my wife informed me and I looked over to see our fur baby wagging his tail at her. I exhaled softly and it felt like my first breath in over 40 hours.
She was on her third slice when she quietly asked, "Why are you so attached to the piano?" I paused and replied, "My mother taught me how to play it. Since no one knew I had survived, I didn't get to keep any of her belongings with me. Those tunes, the melodies - those are the only way I remain connected to her."
She took a bite and said, "There's a gun in the closet. Why do you keep it with you? Were you going to kill him?"
I put my finger under her chin and made her look into my eyes. "I may have kept secrets from you but I am not a murderer, Aina. That gun was for self-defense. I have had it since I was 18. Yes. I hate him. But, would I kill him? No. I can't live with the conscience that I ended a life."
She looked lost in her thoughts for a while and then asked, "The scars under your tattoo - those are from the bullet wounds, right?" I nodded.
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She closed the lid of the box, patted Sheru and said, "I am going to sleep for some time." I got up from the bed and asked her, "Are you okay?" She looked straight at me and said, "How can I possibly be okay?"
