Chapter 21

Kill me, maybe it'll stop the pain.

The gun barrel pointed at me I froze.

His black eyes were as dangerous and deadly as the nine millimeter was.

I knew this man would have the guts to shoot. I knew he would have been able to kill me in cold blood.

Yet, as bizarre as it may seem, deep down I knew he wouldn't. for nothing, but something in me was neither afraid of him nor of the weapon that extended his member.

Maybe I was just crazy? After all he had been violent with me - three times in just two days was huge! - it proved he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty.

But I refused to let fear take me over or even beg him to pardon me. I had too much pride for that and would no doubt rather blow my brains out here in the middle of a family breakfast than to implore his clemency.

Yes, I do think you are crazy, my poor Elisabeth.

- Vladimir, his brother intervened.

- No go shoot, prove in front of everyone that you are a man and shoot, I cut him off.

Shut the fuck up Elizabeth.

- YOU SHOULD BE QUIET, YOU KNOW VERY WELL THAT I WILL HAVE NO REMORSE TO END YOU HERE NOW!

He is right Elizabeth please listen to him.

- Well go ahead please shoot, I said, aligning my arms perpendicular to my body.

Suddenly, without expecting it, I plunged back into a completely forgotten memory. It surged from my memory like a whale surging from the water, unexpectedly and unprepared.

After a long day I came home exhausted.

It had now been three months since she left and yet she was still very much present. In reality she was everywhere. It was the passing motorbike, that was all. Everything here, in this small town, had its mark.

She had left her mark everywhere and that's what made her absence a nameless pain.

My mom was already home. I came home and headed to the fridge to grab a snack. She looked at me askance but didn't say anything.

Ten minutes later, I went downstairs driven by the desire for chocolate.

But this time she hadn't been so lenient.

From her viper's tongue she had poured out a flood of murderous words, like the venom of a serpent.

His words, launched in a hurry, were all sharper than each other. Each reproach left a gaping wound in my mind.

Yet I had never begged him to shut up. I was not begging.

Then, like the chronological sequence of events, I crossed my arms.

- Go ahead, make me a martyr, I said in a calm voice.

For the first time, she hadn't known what to answer. She had left, leaving me alone in the cramped kitchen.

It was the only time I thought I could change her, then I realized that you don't change people.

- Shoot, I say.

And then he did the one thing I didn't think he was capable of.

He shot.