The Frozen Heart
One often wonders about the various mysteries hidden deep beneath the mantle of life; as complex as whether or not there exists an alien universe, or something as simple as why is the sky blue?
But what one fails to realize is that life itself is the biggest mystery of life.
You never will know if you’ll ever rise up to see the next morning or if you’ll ever be able to cross that busy road. You can never be sure if this meal is your last, or if this is the last time you are laughing so hard. You cannot account even for the next nanosecond of your life, yet you are bold enough to plan for that wedding to be held in mid-June next year, or to buy that overpriced concert ticket in advance, or just decide the menu for dinner tonight.
Now, some people would just call that hope or an optimistic way of living, but reality is that we are mere puppets in the hands of destiny and one little spark can burn down our world or one icy blast of wind can freeze our blood.
One bee sting, and our whole world comes crashing down, yet we talk about climbing mountains and bringing the moon for our beloved!
I have often wondered about how I’d want to live and how I’d want to die.I always wanted a life without regrets and I have always wanted to die in the arms of the person whom I love.
Of course, life doesn’t go as planned, but never in my entire life span of thirty-seven years did I ever imagine to die like this.
Abandoned … hungry … cold … freezing … gasping for air … suffocating … Drowning!
I see you sleeping peacefully and I can’t help but smile.
You look so innocent, like a little baby.
Only if you really were!
Remember sweetheart? Remember how much I loved you? Love is, in fact, an understatement. I adored you, worshiped you… lived for you.
I caress your hair and as you shift in your sleep, I kiss you.
Your eyes fly open and immediately widen in shock. I smile as I see your pupils dilate.
In fear, is it?
Your luscious red lips turn blue as oxygen ceases to flow through them.
You struggle to move but I don’t let you go just like you didn’t let me go.
I drag you by your hair, and your shrieks resonate in the silent mansion.
But sweetheart, if you think that the watchman will come and save you then you are mistaken. You see, he is sound asleep never to wake up again.
After all, he also had to pay for being a part of your cruel plan, right?
And of course, the neighbours are a well half a kilometer away so you, my dear, are alone in this.
And I cannot let you be hungry or thirsty now, can I? What sort of a husband would I be if I let that happen?
So I shove insects inside your delicate mouth and move your jaw.
The crunchy sound feels like music to my ears, and your whimpering gives me sheer pleasure.
But … but … hadn’t you also throttled my neck with a plastic bag? Oh yes, you did. But I won’t do anything of that sort; instead I’d just use my bare hands.
And therefore, I grab your petite neck and mightily crush your esophagus, so that your lungs are devoid of their food. You flail your hands in front just like a fish choking when thrown out of water.
And you do recall that you put me into that sack and filled it with rocks and threw me into the glacial river, right?
I couldn’t breathe and the icy water just crept inside my skin and froze my blood. My veins throbbed maniacally and my brain slowed down as I drifted into the abyss of death.
Abandoned… hungry… cold… freezing… gasping for air… suffocating.
This is how I drowned.
This is how you murdered me for my money, remember?
So now the question is, how do I kill you?
Should I leave you to starve, or should I burn that flawless body of yours?
Should I cut off your body part by part, or should I stab you once and for all?
I stand by the side as the knife flies on its own and pierces itself into your eyes, and then cuts off your head and limbs. I smile in glee as I see the carpet stain with your blood. Your body parts then fly themselves into the fireplace and soon enough I can smell the burning flesh.
My frozen heart buried deep down the river melts as it senses the sweet warmth of revenge.
Image Source: Flickr.com