KIAN'S ACT

Seven

He left me in that room, sobbing at Shaka’s feet, begging him to come back to me. Then, time went by and I felt tired, so I slept. Then I woke up and those bright fluorescent lights in the room still flickered, and I cried some more, staring on at Shaka, and now afraid to touch him since he was dead. I huddled myself into the corner and peed on myself, shat on myself and vomited all over myself. Then I slept again, then woke up, and Shaka’s body was swelling and there was a sickening stench that was coming from it. I watched on in fear, shocked at the way that his body appeared– he no longer looked like the man I’d married. Then I began to scream, and I ran towards the door. I tried to turn the door handle but it didn’t budge. I slapped my hands against it, screaming out for Kian to get me out of there. 

Then I slid down the wall and fell asleep again. Then I woke up and the stench was unbearable, Shaka’s body had turned yellow with black undertones. It was horrifying, and there were creatures that were suddenly coming from his corpse and I slammed my hands against the door and screamed and cried, begging Kian to let me out of there. I shouted until my voice ran out, then I grabbed the stool and tried to break the door but the door was made of the hardest damn wood that I’ve ever come across. I kicked at it until I was sure I broke my ankles, and punched it until I was sure my knuckles were broken. I screamed and begged for Kian to get me out of there. 

Then I couldn’t take the stench, it made me too sick. I vomited all the time, choked on it and wanted to do nothing more than just get out of the room. I reeked of death myself, I was starving, shaking and weak. My head hurt, my throat ached and I didn’t have a voice anymore. “Please…somebody…” I whispered into the cracks of the door, gripping onto the door handle as I pressed my face into the door, wanting to not look at Shaka anymore because he made me sick. 

I’d been in this position for hours. The tears had stopped flowing down my face and suddenly all I wanted was for this to end, one way or another. I swallowed, my dry mouth still tasting of the urine that I had to drink in order to feel a bit nourished. I had peed into my hands and brought my own urine to my mouth, drinking it. It had been so long since I had anything to eat, or anything to drink. My body was failing, I knew that, and I was desperate. 

I let out a low sigh and then looked at the stool that I’d flung across the room. I looked down at my dress and then at the door handle. I grabbed, with the little of strength that I had left and tore the dress, getting some much needed material. It had taken me long to do so, my arms were weak, my fingers could barely wrap around the cloth, let alone rip the now filthy dress. I took the material that I’d just ripped and stretched it out, then I took it and wrapped it around my neck, making sure to tie a good enough knot. Then I tied the other side of the material around the door handle, my fingers trembling all the while as I tried to form a tight enough knot. 

I needed to get out of here, and I was going to. I was going to kill myself than have to deal with any more time in here with a decomposing corpse. I tugged on the material on the door handle and then took in a deep breath. I was standing on my feet and planning to just fall to the floor, ending it all. I looked at the bright yellow material that wrapped around the door handle and up to around my neck. I didn’t think about it too much since I’d done enough thinking. I just needed it to end. 

So I did as planned and let my body fall to the floor. The material around my throat tightened and it cut off my air supply. My hands instinctively, reached to around my throat, fighting to undo it due to the pain but I’d planned for it. 

I knew about suicide, knew that the human body fought for survival, so I had a good enough knot to make it impossible for me to go back on my decision. My feet kicked as choking noises escaped me, my heart raced with a renewed vigour and I felt the life slipping out of me, felt the very painful and cruel clutches of death before everything seemed to ease around my throat and I felt hands all over my body. 

I blinked, finding the blue eyes that belonged to Samantha. Her eyes were red and glassy and she looked like she’d been crying, she held me tightly to her and she was talking a lot but I couldn’t hear her. I blinked, parting my lips and letting out a hoarse, tired and horrified whisper, “have you seen the fucking devil?” I asked her as I felt myself being lifted. 

I gripped her hand, unable to let it go as I felt myself being laid down on something. 

I refused to let her dull blue eyes go. 

She didn’t speak, or maybe she did, but I didn’t hear it. My ears were ringing and there was the dull echo of my weakened heart. My voice was hoarse and it sounded as dead as I felt. “I have,” I answered my own question, she appeared to be running beside me, holding onto me with more strength than I could reciprocate. “I’ve seen the devil with my own two eyes…” my tongue slipped from the roof of my mouth, making a sad, dry sound as I let out a soft cry, remembering it all. “He’s white,” I explained, blinking slowly, feeling the world slip through my fingers. So close,  “and he wears an ivory mask.”