jueves, 9 de septiembre de 2010

My Day

Last night the voices and the noises started again. So high, so loud, so creepy, that I couldn't sleep at all. At dawn, with the very first sun rays on the horizon, I knew what I had to do. I needed to stop the voices. I needed to kill him.

I was up so early that everyone in the house was still asleep, and the streets were completely silent. I got dressed and went to the kitchen. A bit of milk and a bunch of Cheerios, the best breakfast for a teen. Just after preparing it, I stopped a moment, staring at it. I realized I was not hungry. Not hungry at all. In fact, I was a bit nauseated. So I just left it on the table. Fuck you milk, fuck you Cheerios. This was gonna be my day, and I didn't need you.

I knew where my parents hid money in the main room, so I took it and went out. I started walking to our neighborhood local gun store. What I needed was there.

*

It looked impressive. It was full of more kinds of firearms than I could have ever imagined, and most of them were at hand. Except for the owner, I was alone there. Although I was a bit nervous with him looking at me carefully all the time, it was better this way. For sure, he wouldn't let me go with a gun if anyone else was looking.

He was a big, fat guy, with a goatee and dressed in a old-fashioned rocker style, as if he were one of those Hell Angels you could see in a movie. It was said in the school that he was an illegal supplier for some gangs... and I was risking everything on it.

I chose a typical one —a Colt .38 revolver— and headed to the cash register. My own heartbeats were pounding into my head, as if my brain were beating my skull from inside, trying to run away from my body.

"Hey kiddo, do you know you have to be 21 to buy these things?"

My left eye was itching, but I resisted the urge to scratch it. I was trying by all means not to look worried or nervous.

"C'mon pal, it's a gift, for my father. We have something very special to celebrate. You know... I was told you were a reliable guy... that you could help me" I said while taking out all the money from my pockets. More than a thousand dollars, enough to buy half a dozen of those guns. I could see him licking his lips. And now he wasn't staring at me anymore, but at the money.

And that was your chance, God. If you really wanted to stop me, if I was really doing wrong, that one was really your chance.

But it worked. He sighed, and he rolled his eyes. But it worked. He took the money and gave me the gun. And some ammunition, of course.

While I was returning home, I started to feel guilty... in a few days, maybe even in a few hours, he would be hit by the aftermath for turning a blind eye. But it didn't last long. After all, he was selling freaking illegal guns! He was going to get what he deserved. So fuck you, gun seller. And fuck you God, too. Neither of you did anything to stop me. Neither of you tried to stop anything, or to solve anything. As always. As everyone. And now I had no option, but to make this very one my day.

*

I took the elevator. While I was going up, I opened the ammo box and loaded the gun... or at least I tried to. As soon as I opened it, the box slipped out of my hands a bit, and I dropped half of the bullets on the floor. I looked at my hand. It was shaking. My whole body was shaking. I gritted my teeth and felt a tear falling from my eye. All of a sudden, I couldn't bear it. I collapsed.

I don't know how much time I was in that position, sitting on the lift floor, with my head on my knees and hugging my own legs - maybe two minutes, maybe twenty. Luckily, no one needed the elevator.

"Come on Billy. Come on, you stupid little kid. You just cannot stay here, trying not to cry. If you don't do anything, the voices will start tonight again. If you do nothing, the noises will rise again tonight, louder and louder. Tonight and any other night... Now, you are the only one who can stop the voices. You are the only one who can stop the noises. There are people who need you. You are some people's only hope. If you don't, who will..." I kept saying these words until I found a reserve of strength to help me to stand up.

I went in the flat. It was hot there. I saw my breakfast in the kitchen, still waiting for me. A fly was hovering over it. I didn't want to halt a minute, didn't want to stop to think. So I rushed into my room. There, I made sure that the gun was fully charged, and unlocked the safety. I was ready.

I opened the door of the room he was sleeping in. I could smell a mix of alcohol and sweat, and some other things I didn't want to smell.

"Good morning, Daddy" I said while turning on the lights. I didn't want to... but I had to see him, I couldn't afford to miss the shot. He just grunted and looked at me with blurry eyes. I wondered if he even recognized me. I aimed at him and unlocked.

"Good night, Daddy" I tried to sound cool... like Wolverine in an X-Men movie. But I think my voice was trembling a bit and I couldn't help but let out a sob.

"Bang" I said. That was the very last word he heard in his fucking life. I pulled the trigger.

"Bang" said the gun, in its own louder and assertive way.

***

When the police burst in, they found him sitting, with the gun still in his lap, under a door frame.

His little sister's door frame.

"Now the nightmare has ended. Now we can sleep again" were his only words.

1 comentario:

  1. No leas este comentario antes de leer el relato.

    ¿Ya sabes por qué Billy hace lo que hace?

    Solo diré que la penúltima línea hace que el relato cobre un nuevo sentido. Vuelve a leer el relato con ella en mente.

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