Peephole (Part one)

Peephole

(Part one)

Life is not supposed to be easy. At least that’s what everyone tells you, and I guess it is true, but there is something sweet in all the bitterness you face in life, there is a certain pleasure. I am not a masochist, that I realized when I was 12, so that is not the point.  Still, testing that sour fucked up things that happenen to me was something I cherished. Why is that?

Well for one thing I am very good at remembering flavors and smells, that I realized when I was 6, everyone in my family still makes fun of it when I mention it, but I consider it my one and only true gift, maybe it is not special, but when you are only really good at one thing, you kind off have to like it.

So maybe by now you can figure out why I cherish it, I use my only gift to identify heart crushing situations, disappointment, pain, confusion, well, any "bad" feeling you can think about, I can actually taste it before it comes, like a premonition. 

So that day on July I just knew something bad was coming, my past, my present and my future were gathering together to bit me right in the ass, hard. I did what I knew best, run away. The true greatness of my so called gift is that I can actually choose what to feel if I know what is coming, sometimes it is good to let yourself feel that something, but it is easier to run to the opposite direction and shove everything in the “unwanted feelings” drawer.

My escape plan for the first time ever, did not work as I planned.

As I was finishing my way to cold shower there was a knock on the door, it surprised me, since no one knew I was here. I shouted the regular “COMING” and got dressed as quickly as I could. With my long hair still dripping I opened the door, stupid me I should have seen first trough the peephole. 

And there he was, just like I remembered him, perfect hair, angry eyes.

“What are you going here?”  Was the first thing I could say.

“Where is it?” he asked. Boy was he angry. But in the end, I expected him to be angry, hell I had stolen from him, well not from him, because what I had “stolen” was not just his, it was also mine. 

My arms moved quickly as I tried to shut the door, he was quicker; he shoved his foot making my effort to run away again, even if it was just a few minutes, a complete failure.

He opened the door and let himself inside. He sat on the sofa bed and pushed the dirty sheets aside like they were infected with a mortal disease.

“I am not gonna ask you again. Where the fuck is it?” His angry eyes where burning like the rings of Mordor.

“It is not here…. Obviously” I said. I was proud of myself, I was actually calm, I knew what he could do, and I still was able to confront him.  

He got up really quickly, before I could move he grabbed me and pushed me to the wall, I gasped for air as he reached for my throat. Well of course he would do this, cutting my air supply was the easiest way to make me break down, I obviously could not live without air, Could I?

To be continued......

C.L.S.A.

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