Not a Love Story

They say mirror reflects you what kind of a person you are inside. What you feel is clearly shown inside it. Even the old fairy tale to Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs has the mention of a special kind of mirror which shows the reflection of the most beautiful women in all the land. Well, they are all shit. You see what you look like to other people in the mirror, that’s just about it. Now when I watch myself in the mirror right now, I see a fat guy in his mid forties, balding, wearing a blood strained blue shirt and black trouser and holding a shovel covered with blood and what I think it the portion of the intestine of one of the two people I just killed.

I was never the kind of a kid who would like to go outside and play with the other kids. I actually hated them running around creating a mess all around. All the grownups used to laugh when they broke something. I never understood what with that. It was I guess in my early teens, the times when kids start to grow up, start doing the grownup stuff. The first time I felt like hitting someone. By now you might have guessed I didn’t have the highest of the self esteem you will see in a kid of my age. I was round, fat and grumpy. The other kids used to bully me, pull my hair, sometimes even my shorts down. I remember one time I was walking down the hallway in school when one of the kids jumped in from behind and pulled down my pants. It felt as if all the girls of the school were standing there. I felt as if I should take the fire extinguisher and hit that little kid so hard, but I didn’t, instead I started to cry. It was one of those many nights that I cried myself to sleep. But that is not the main part of the story, so moving on. I finally finished my studies with a very average marks, got myself a low paying job, and a girlfriend, yes I know, I got a girlfriend. It could have been a big deal if my own girlfriend wouldn’t have been making an ass out of me behind my back.  I got dumped, twice, by the same woman, that was the time when I decided I didn’t need any women in my life to screw me up. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt sick about myself.

Marriage is more of an obligation in India rather than a tradition. The more I tried to postpone it, the more my parents were determined to get me married. As I have already told that I don’t really look like a Tom Cruise, even though I have his height. So naturally I was rejected many times when my parents finally found someone who was willing to bear me for the rest of her life. The marriage went off really well; I was the first night after the marriage which was the problem. She was sitting there fully dressed up and waiting for me, but I just couldn’t get the courage to touch her. I thought it might just offend her. I took my pillow and slept on the couch that night, and for every night ever since.

It had been about 2 months in our marriage and she was trying very hard to please me. She cooked for me, took care of me when I felt sick. It was the first time for me that someone actually cared for me, except for my mother, but she is a mother, they have to care. I don’t know she did it because she loved me or just because she thought it was her duty to serve her husband well. But I never somehow got up the courage to ask her.

As it had been a long time, people in my office, bad people I mean, wanted me to give a party because of the wedding. Mostly they all wanted to team up and embarrass myself in front of my wife. I ignored all of them, except Jimmy. Jimmy was the kind of guy women would dream when they are with a guy like me. He was, if I am not being modest, one of the finest specimens of human males, and by the way, the only guy in the office who wasn’t a jerk to me. He was nice, warm and a truly genial person. When he advised me to arrange a party, I just couldn’t refuse.

The party went off well, I wasn’t teased much, nobody laughed at my fat stomach more then they usually do. It heredity people, get over it. There were now just a few people left, Jimmy and a few other guys from my work, and yes, my wife. Everybody in my office seemed to like her, her not me. I don’t really understand why. I have been working there for more than a year and still no one even recognizes me properly. Moving on, Jimmy seemed to enjoy chatting up with my wife along with other guys while I started cleaning up. It felt kind of weird seeing two of them together, talking to each other, with an occasional giggle from my wife. I felt kind of sick, my hands started to become warm. For the first time in my time since I have known Jimmy, I felt to as if slap him, but of course I didn’t. I continued cleaning up.

Jimmy hanging around in my house after office almost became a routine for him. It was as if he had a certain connection with me, or my wife now. He came over almost every day, would tell us hilarious stories, the kind of stories my kind of people might never have been part of. Sometimes he would come over even when I was not in the house. I, for obvious reasons didn’t like it, and of course didn’t say anything.

Today, Jimmy was absent from work. I wasn’t really worried because my wife had also gone to her parent’s house spend the night. I thought it would be a good time to hit the bar and soak up some booze. I usually leave my office at 5 and reach home by 6, but today I straight went to the bar and started drinking bourbon. Yes, guy like me drinking bourbon, it can happen. I thought of stopping by Jimmy’s place just to see if he was ok or not. It was dark and I was drunk, but I finally managed to find the right house. As I stepped off from my car, I heard screaming coming out the house. I would usually pee myself in a situation like this but maybe it was the booze or something else, but I got the courage to pick up the shovel from the garden and face whatever is in there. The weird thing was every light was off, except for the bedroom.

I slowly walked towards the bedroom window, trying not the make a sound. It wouldn’t have made such a difference as the screaming was loud enough to cover it. But I still walked slowly because I saw it in a movie one and it looked cool. As I almost reached the window, the screaming had now softened and reached at a point of almost moaning. I felt kind of silly standing there thinking what I was thinking, but I came as far as here; I thought a look wouldn’t hurt. As I peeked into the bedroom, I saw a man and women, well doing stuff. Man was definitely Jimmy but I couldn’t recognize the women, though she looked familiar. When they stopped to change positions, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The women was no one else than my own wife.

Let me clarify this in advance or it may be perceived in a wrong sense but I have never really been a violent person. I might be the most harmless person you will ever meet, but I don’t know what happened to me at that time, as I said earlier, I don’t know if it was the alcohol or anything else, but at that moment I felt something I had never felt before, rage. I felt as if my hands are starting to tingle and all I want was to go inside and smash their heads with all the strength I have, however less it may be. I swear time slowed down and my mind started playing with me, I am telling you, alcohol and rage is not a good combination. My mind wandered into my childhood as long as I might remember and I started to see the pictures of everything bad that has ever happened to me. Every time someone bullied me, laughed at me, cheated on me and made others to laugh at me. It somehow grew in my head and my heart started pumping blood to my brain so hard that I felt my brain would explode at any minute now, but all I could think of was the ways I can make everybody who made an ass out of me pay.

Without realizing I smashed the window pane with the shovel I had in my hand just hoping my brain would stop playing games with me, the moaning stopped and both Jimmy and my wife looked up and saw me standing out in the window with a shovel in my hand. All I could see on their face was fear, exactly like what other people would have seen in my eyes over the years. Suddenly I saw everyone’s face, everyone who has ever hurt me, in the shadow of their faces. I knew I couldn’t stop myself now and finally I jumped onto the window into the room and started running towards the bed. My wife was so scared she covered himself up with the sheet and interestingly enough her face was actually whiter then the bed sheet. Jimmy got up to stop me but with all the strength I had I smashed the shovel across Jimmy’s face and knocked him out. Seeing him like that made me feel like a god, seeing him like that made me do it more. I went up to the bed and started hitting my wife with the pointy side of the shovel. I kept hitting her head till I heard her skull cracking and blood oozing out of her head. I turned around and I saw Jimmy about to wake up so I ran across to him and hit him on the part he was just using with my wife. I kept hitting him till the time it actually fell off. Jimmy and my wife lay there motionless but I just couldn’t stop myself from hitting them not because I couldn’t but because I didn’t wanted too. I wanted to show everyone that I am not the same coward person anymore. I kept hitting them till there was something left to hit. By the time I was finished, both of them looked as they had been run off by a truck or something like that. That was the time I felt satisfied and I finally stopped.

Now as I look myself in the mirror, I see a monster that had been hiding under my skin for I don’t know how many years. People might say I have just become a monster, but I know I always was. Aren’t we all monsters under human skin waiting to be unleashed?? I think so, do you??