The beach house.
It was a chilly night. The sea was infuriated, beating on the rocks below seeking attention. It ravaged wildly on three sides around him clearly stark raving mad. As it savored the strength imbibed in it by the moon, something else shared its grant. And it had no idea. While it was glowering on the outside and peaceful inside, he was the exact opposite. As a writer would like to say, this was the eye of the storm.
The sky was cloudy sporting a medicine blue aura, bar one big white dot and many smaller twinkling miniatures.
He was cold. His fingers were numb and his eyes were dead. He was shivering hysterically. His hands lay in his pockets seeking the warmth that wasn’t there. His handsome face stricken with lines of unparalleled normalcy tried not to hide what had happened of his smile. The same face that could melt a woman’s heart with a bare muscle was now an axiom of betrayal. All it bore was nothingness. To one close to him it was alarming. To one afar it was in line with the common customs followed by the general accreditations and droids.
He looked at the moon out of habit. It was their sign of love. On nights like these when they couldn’t be together, they used to whisper to it for a while as if talking to each other. But tonight she was off.
The moon stuck out like a fish on a pole or a mole on a pretty face. Lily’s face. Lily’s mole. The left cheek tender and slightly wet with his soft kiss. His arms around her neck tracing the commencement of her bosom as he kissed the mole from behind her.
If only memories were a thread he could break and forget. He never heard the footsteps behind him. Or the joyous shouts that celebrated the wedding of his beloved to a close friend. So this is how close they were. He never even heard his own heart break the shackles that bound him and reach her. And now she was right behind him on the next rock. What the hell he thought, he could even sense her.
“You always were hot.”
“I should have been cold.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“It would. I wouldn’t have been blind and faithful.”
“I always liked you.”
She stepped up behind him as he hoped she would just slip and fall.
“Was it easy Lily? Being with him and me at the same time?”
“You were always easy. Fun, good to be with and lovable.”
“But you don’t love me.”
“I don’t love you in the way you want me too.”
“Then what way do you love me in? The way where you love me and marry my best friend? James doesn’t even know about us.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“I am sorry. I am sorry for all that happened.”
“Don’t be sorry for that. Be sorry for being who you are. And you know exactly what you are.”
There was a pause as he decided to not continue.
“I didn’t want it this way either.”
“Face it you are the one who is making it this way.”
Correcting himself, “made it this way”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He took his hand out of his pocket and said,
“I have something for you”
She inched closer not knowing what to think or expect.
He held her hand, put something cold in it and closed her fingers. Her hand felt warm he noticed. The physical contact was still mesmerizing he noticed. He hated her so much he wanted to strangle her he noticed. And it took everything inside him to not.
She opened her hand. Inside it was a ring. She recognized it as the one she had liked window shopping.
“It isn’t a diamond.”
“But you are.”
“Lily, go before I hurt you. I can’t feel my hands and that’s the only reason I am not strangling you right now. Don’t make me do something I regret later. Don’t make me hurt me.”
She handed him the ring and turned to go.
“Lily, I still love you. And I always will. Remember that.”
“I will.” She never quite said it but she meant it.
She walked past him towards the beach house.
Once she was gone, he jumped. And as he did, he died.
Or so he thought. It is a strong belief that love doesn’t die, merely lovers do. If that were to be the case, can the exact opposite of the anomaly take a different path? If the mirror is coexistent with the image, does the creator of both have any say in the existence of the object in picture? Love cannot die. Then what is it that survives once all of it is choked out? Can it die? Is it as sensitive or just as insensitive? Is it good or pure evil? Can the word hatred define it? Can faith be wrong? Or is reality just one big misty illusion?
Wet. Cold. Strong. Intensely alive. He stepped out of the sea a new leaf. A dry one. One on which dew doesn’t settle. His hands weren’t numb. His eyes weren’t wet. His heartbeat wasn’t slow. He wasn’t hurt anymore. He wasn’t human anymore. As the music from the speakers reached his cocked ears he howled with ecstasy.
One boy saw it all. He stood outside the cabin enjoying his smoke. The cloud cover lifted exposing the moon at about the same time as his smoke took flight. For a moment his iris’s contracted and all was clear. The moon, the sea and the beast. His back was to him and as his eyes traced the outline of his neck, shoulders and biceps ending at his paws all shrouded in maybe fur this animal surged for power. The cigarette fell from his hand onto the sand below. He couldn’t move. And his eyes wide with shock took in all. They fell from the hands to the back and the tail. His legs were those of footballers, the calves extreme. As one huge wave welcomed him perhaps by its own annihilation on the throne he stood on, he howled. The howl put some sense into him as he ran into the beach house. There he shouted wildly in a trance but when the music is so loud all you can hear is the track. Your heartbeat may just die out and you won’t even know. The lights went off. The music stopped. And his voice was the one sound booming into the night. The waves splashed at a distance merry making. The whole house was dark. And the hero of darkness was on his way.
A few candles were ignited. Initially the reaction of the people was that of amusement. But as tears slipped down his cheeks comprehension was unavoidable. There was chaos. A few ran outside and the rest bolted the doors from inside. A couple got to their cars. One started fumbling with the car keys. The other fired the engine and reversed. He switched gears and jammed the accelerator but his car didn’t move. His front wheels were running violently but his vehicle was stationery. Fearing the worst he glanced at his rear view mirror. He saw eyes. And then he saw nothing. The sparks coming out of the friction created between the wheels and the road met oil and the engine exploded. The beast raised the car into the air as it burned and thrashed it into the ground.
The keys fell from her hand as she saw the beast. Almost in slow motion she saw his head turn towards him. Without thinking she made a dash towards the house. Just a few feet she thought to himself. She heard the charge behind him but kept running. Till he was onto her and her nose hit the road. There was a pain in her back increasing to nothing.
Inside all eyes were on the werewolf. They knew what he was now. And he wasn’t just another species. As he tore at the last man outside they stepped away from the windows and the doors as if it could save them.
And then there was silence. The waves had stopped applauding. The only ovation now was the breathing. Their breathing. They all seemed to realize it at once and hushed. There was no point in climbing the stairs to the next floor. The two floored apartment had once been the pride of a general. Rock established its bottom floor and glass adorned the upper. Heels clicked as one fine lady decided to skip it. She climbed the steps and locked the balcony door. As she turned she heard a loud thud behind her in the balcony. And he was standing there. Below almost soundlessly each one searched for a weapon that might save a life, namely their own. And above they stood sharing the inevitable. All that separated them was a thin glass door neither could break owing to something that existed in both animals. She looked into his eyes and saw herself. There was a hunger in them. A hunger for blood. Even with the wolf snout and the canines he was handsome. There was no denying it.
The clouds took their place as a curtain again momentarily and he returned to his human form.
“It is you isn’t it?”
“Yes Lily. It is me. This is what you have made me.”
The next moment he wasn’t there.
The lights returned and the music came alive once again. Suddenly what was heaven fifteen minutes ago was now irritating. The same sounds were eerie and unwanted. The same people who had been shouting for more now turned the speakers off. They were ready holding everything in their power. It’s funny how the idea of death makes you do strange things. For a while nothing happened. Maybe the night was over. Maybe they had evaded death. Slowly one of them tried to open the door. He was stopped by another. After a general vote out, they decided to check. Lily’s to be husband volunteered to check. He glanced at the top of the staircase hoping she would be there. But she wasn’t. Maybe she was just sick he thought. Maybe she was scared. Maybe she needed time to think. He had to protect her. He stepped outside without a weapon. He walked a few steps cautiously and turned around. He saw her through the glass and their eyes met for a second. And as his view shifted upwards, he saw him.
Within seconds he had pounced on him. The jump seemed to have been easy. He landed on his back with the beast on him. He tried to fight. But his arm broke. He had heard the bone shatter. And there was no feeling in the other arm. He kicked. Until his feet were pressed under the burden of vengeance. He waited for the final blow. He saw the head of the beast come down on him near the neck and felt something warm. He closed his eyes and muttered “Lily I am sorry”. After that he remembered nothing.
The door was closed again.
He focused his eyes on the door and ran headlong into it. Under his weight it broke. For a second he was stunned. He stood on his hind legs and howled gathering strength. A couple of women screamed. A couple of men ran at him hands raised ready to strike. Hungrily he slaughtered and man handled. In the midst of it one man punched him on his arm. He severed his head off. He thought to himself, how easy. Once he was done with them he put on a pair of pants. The clock on the wall read a five to twelve. He went into the kitchen. There he could smell a kid hiding inside a cupboard. He didn’t care which though. He picked up the cake and lighted the candles on it. It was Lily’s birthday. The chocolate smelled sweet. It was in the shape of an eight with lily written in its centre. The way she had always wanted it. He remembered she had told him a week ago. And for some reason even James had known. He remembered breaking his arm. He climbed the steps humming the happy birthday song. He noticed that she had turned off the lights. He could make out her figure on the bed. He walked to it and lay down next to her.
“Happy birthday Lily.”
“You were always wrong Adam.”
“What do you mean?”
“Adam there is something wrong with you. Look at you. You have blood all over you and you are smiling.”
“It’s your birthday Lily. And I am with you. I am happy. And guess what? James got you the eight shaped cake you wanted.”
“Do you know why it was eight shaped?”
“I am pregnant. Here show me your hand.”
She held his hand and placed it on her stomach. But something was wrong. He pulled his hand back. It was bloody.
“Lily you are bleeding.”
“Of course. I killed him.”
ps: i had this frnd. and well, we had a fight. so we arent frnds anymore. yeah awkward i guess. nyways, her b'days in abt a month and my saying anything isnt acceptable. so wish her for me with a cute little bday wish in ur coment. um..thanks.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The beach house.