A Path Through Veins

1

- He wouldn't do it. - She have been thinking unable to wink.
- There's no other way. - These words were resonating in his mind.
Her cellphone's ringtone broke the silence through the dawn.

Some days have passed since he started walking around, like an ant lost from its partners, searching for his way. That oppressive feeling of seeing her everyday, being near her, but never being with her. He have been spending his days perched across the street, just watching her steps. Everybody who passed by would greet him. Sometimes, he would be too lost inside his mind to answer. From above, they looked at him pitifully. This was torturing that poor being, who lonely, could not rely on compassion from his peers. He was downgraded. Not even his old friends, that substances which once affected his senses and brought some atonishment, after being overused, were working anymore.

By the next morning, as always, he opened his shop 5 minutes before she opens her salon, which was right beside. Often, he was convinced that being in contact with his clients would turn him up. The shop was quite popular as the products were cheap (but from questionable origins). It was located next to the main school of this town, so lots of teenagers are used to come here. Just like his eldest daughter, a freshman high school. His youngest son was around 10, a restless puppy, asking for care. She, the Mom, broke with him to keep the children safe from his flightly temper.

Noon was the most painful time of the day. Soon the students would come from school and the shop would get crowded. Now, however, the silence that takes place makes possible hearing her voice across the cold walls. It was as if he was facing a hill, and he could see her on the other side. He was soaking each and every single word she was speaking, getting drunk with the voice melody that used to wake him up every morning. Sometimes there were no words to be heard, so he would go outside and wander around, waiting for a breeze to come and bring the shampoo scent from inside. He risked a glance and saw some hair strands all over the floor, the client sit, checking the result of the work, and then, there she was, skillfully handling the scissors while the wet hair was being dropped on the floor. Some footsteps brought him back to his own shop.

It was one of that students who arrives too early for the afternoon classes and spends his time wandering around. His neck was long and the nose sharp like a beak. His low height and red hair brought a rooster image to the seller's mind.While searching for some movies to buy, the kid started a conversation. He was obsessed for thriller movies, like serial killers stories. His favorite type was the ones with disturbed characters. The talk was turning annoying, so he hasted the sale in order to become on peaceful silence again.

He was feeling a void spreading inside. In need of breathing and thinking he closed the shop early that day. He considered hiking on the mountain, but he didn't feel strong enough, so he headed to the town's old mine, a sparsely populated touritic point. There he could be alone, but the opressing silence made him feel lonely. He could see some young local residents smilling around, joyful couples crossing the bridge to the mountain path.

He couldn't think straight anymore. Portraits, voices, smells, all kind of memories were spinning inside his mind. They had already been together at the same place, they had already been a joyful couple crossing the bridge, they had smilled around. But unreasonably she become afraid of him. Suddenly he noticed a group of people ahead, they were too lousy for him to ignore. The reason of that disturbance was a street dog, loved by everyone, who dispatched its puppy. "The puppy was probably sick", a dad was conforting his loudly-crying child. The watching man remembered about his own child, who was supposed to be wating for him to spend the weekend together. The church clock stroke five times. It was time to take his son at school.

At home, he let the kid watching TV while he went out for shopping snacks and drinks. He knew the mother would call all night long to check that everything was okay. During the last three hours she had already called twice. That worry was freakying him out, what did she fear? When he came back home the phone was ringing again. Angry, he pulled out the telephone cable, he didn't want to hear her voice far away, he didn't want to notice worry in her voice.

By this time the kid had already been tired of  television and started running around, fighting against imaginary friends, driving an imaginary car, yelling like a siren. Why was he so lousy? The room was waving before the man's eyes. Was it the alcohol? No matter how much his senses were affected by these substances, his feelings were not. How much would be enough to inebriate his soul? The smoke was making everything frenzied. This atmosphere provided a flashback immersion. But it was not an easy immersion, he felt like if every recently recurrent thought suddenly bursted into sounds, smells and images at once. He heard the discussions once again, his own threats, he felt her smooth skin touching his rough body. He didn't meant to hurt her or their daughter so many times, but sometimes he was turned freaky by his blood pressure, he couldn't help it. And after that, he would be relieved. The barking of the neighbourhood woke him up from the trance.

Now he could see the right solution. He would give her the final choice. He had already threaten her so many times, but now he could feel cathartic effect of the action. He connected the telephone cable back. His mind was delighted by the idea of the fear she would feel. He knew she would be laying on the bed, without being able even to close her eyes, waiting for this call. He anticipated the hesitation on her voice and the hiccups that he would hear after saying what he would say. He knew she would argue that way. He also knew  that she wouldn't be able to understand the natural law. "Something born from a deficient relationship should be eliminated, so that new healthy beings can be born."

The cockcrow came with the sunlight by the open windows. Everything was ready. But what he couldn't anticipate was that she would send her brother in her place. What a pity! When he heard the voice of his brother-in-law, spanking the door, trying to break in, he noticed his plan had failed. He was looking forward to seeing her blood joining his and his son's, who was lying dead in his arms. But the knife that killed the child would never reach her flesh, because everything was coming to the end right now. Quickly, he cut his own throat, in the right moment the door came down. The narcotics were preventing him from pain, he couldn't hear or understand anymore the brother's voice, who was searching in vain for a breath of life coming from the little boy. The red painting all the place was slowly paling, until nothing else remains. No anguish, no pain, no memory, no happiness.