Joaquine Joaquine.com – Essays, Short Stories, and more.

Curly Hair

Curly hair, tall, and brown eyes described almost everything that he was right then. There was no exceptional skills to point out he had or anything exciting on his life to talk about.  There was nothing to leave behind after it was time for him to leave this Earth. No one was going to miss him, not even a soul to remember him. He always lived on the sidelines of stuff and there was no reason in thinking that people would remember him for being on the side all the time.

The time finally came and he took the knife from the drawer; he remembers when he got this knife as a gift to his mother on an awkward last minute Christmas gift.  He remembers how she embraced him and told him thanks. The cold knife rests against his pale wrist and he feels the teeth of the knife just touching him and he feels has if his heart was on his throat as it beats faster and faster.  He takes a last look outside his balcony window and watches as cars speed below him and people waiting at the bus stop some listening to music and some others are talking on the phone.

He sighs.

He feels like when he was about to swim on the deep pool for the first time. His body shaking and blood rushing up and down like electricity runs through a wire. That time he had all the support from his Physical Education teaching motivating him to jump into the pool and he did and swan all the way to the other end of the pool. It was one of the proudest moments on his life and he had finally accomplished something that seemed impossible. He is sure that this time around will be the same. He takes a deep breath and presses the knife’s teeth deep into his wrist.

Blood runs down his wrist and then drips into the white floor below. He feels no pain; it was like that time he cut himself playing with his friends when he was just 7 years old. He fell against a piece of glass bottle that was on dry garden and it went so deep that blood just kept rushing out and when he went to get his mother she almost passed out on the way to the hospital.  He remembers as he watched the doctors rushing in and out trying to stop the blood and he just looking at them with eyes that made every nurse that was holding his hand cry.  He did not know why this was happening and he just wanted to see how the doctors were curing him. His mother passed out on the hall and the doctors had to help her. He did not understand why his mother was not with him in that moment. He screamed for her minute after minute and she did not come. Just as now, his mother is not going to come. He laughs and laughs as he feels his body screaming in pain and getting weaker by the minute.

He closes his eyes and tears roll down his eyes. He almost killed his mother the day he was born. For the last 15 years he has been reminded by her that he is killing her slow and that someday she will be gone not to bother him anymore. He lets out a weak sigh. And he says to himself “well I will be going first then mother, I do not want to continue killing you slowly… what son would want to do that?”

His body falls to side right into the pool of blood besides him. Bubbles of air form on the little pool as he lets out his last breaths. His heart stops. His curly brown hair now is dark red and is half opened right eye is flooded with blood.

When his mother arrives from the store he finds him there on the floor and runs towards him. Tries to revive him but it is too late and she lets out a scream of pain as if thousand swords were piercing her heart and passes out with him on her arms.