Wednesday

It was one of those Wednesdays, not the type that makes you wish it was the following Friday, but the type that made you yearn for the previous Monday. Because, if it were Monday the memories of the past few hours probably would have never existed.

It was getting late, and the darkness began to bleed onto the off-white colored walls, and furniture of the modestly decorated studio apartment. Shadows were being splattered across the picture frames that hung around the room. A murderous silence had engulfed the space.

He hadn’t moved from the Rent-a-Center branded, vinyl covered, metal framed chair in hours. It was obviously the most uncomfortable chair he owned, and although it made him squirm occasionally, he stayed there. The comforting he wanted would not be satisfied by any inanimate object, let alone a chair.

Maybe the chair was a, sort of, self imposed punishment, forcing him to recollect.

It was the 7:00 a.m. intolerable beeps of the alarm clock that had changed everything. Actually the clock is only partially to blame; most of it belonged to his subconscious mind. The part of his brain that had republished the repressed memories of “her". He had dreams of Nina in the past, but none played as prominently in his mind as this one had. This one had challenged him to accept something, which he didn’t want to believe.

Blind faith had always been a hindrance in Akil’s life. From politics and UFO’s, to religion and Love, Akil never believed anything until it was proven, and observed. And if he couldn’t witness it, then it didn’t exist. This was one aspect of his life that Nina had created a hiccup in; with the idea that some things come from a sense of knowing and feeling. Knowing that not all things’ can be revealed with an abacus and a chalk board, and feeling, a movement, internally towards something or somebody.

He appreciated and detested her for that.

He appreciated that she had been willing to challenge his philosophy. But he had a certain level of disdain for her, one, for the fact that she had been fairly successful in proving it. And, two, for where and what she had brought him through. For, Akil wouldn’t be sitting in this chair, on this Wednesday, watching the bloody shadows run down the faces on the pictures in his home, if not for Nina. It was her absence that had created the memories, that he had to suppress, that had permeated into and stained his consciousness at 7:00 a.m. this morning, which had forced him to punish himself by sitting in the worst seat in his home; contemplating her absence.

She had brought him to this point. Her selfishness. Leaving without reason, without speaking, without him, never to be seen again.

Reports said that her remains were found, and that she had taken her own life. That she had chosen to condemn her Soul to a fate worst than Hell. To the purgutorious world that held captive to those Soul’s that didn’t deserve the peace that Hell had to offer.

Akil couldn’t believe what he heard. Not that it shocked him, but the fact that Nina no longer existed. He had avoided all possible chances to view the remains of what was said to be her two-year old dead body. He believed that if he did not observe her death, nor saw proof, it couldn’t be true. That ideology had worked so many times before in his life. It had comforted him.

But now he was uncomfortable. He sat in his cheap, vinyl covered barstool, in total darkness, looking towards the pictures that hung on the wall. Even though he could not visibly see them, he knew they were there. He knew from a sense of knowing, and felt from a, sort of, internal movement that they were there, and that Nina was not.

He detested her for filling his head with such invalidatible theories of knowing and feeling.

Because if not for Nina, Akil wouldn’t be looking at the pictures hanging on his wall, and watching the blood and the shadows slowly engulf his space. He wouldn’t be sitting there, uncomfortably waiting to join Nina in that Hell greater than Hell.



Peace.