Darker Shades of Fear

(Installment 24)

If that wasn't love then what the fuck was I thinking?

* * *

It’s terribly funny, the way in which humans behave. We accept the inevitable, anticipate the ending and yet, when it happens, we cannot fathom why. Perhaps it’s a side effect of shock that prompts this denial. Whatever the reason is irrelevant, really. The significance lies in its occurrence.

Light poured through the small gaps in the blinds, giving the window a radiant glow. He was awake when she stirred from sleep without help from the alarm clock. She looked up at him with a small, contented smile. Kenny returned the gesture while his mind struggled to memorize everything about her. The night seemed to have lasted longer than it should have and he was grateful for the sight of the thin rays of sunlight that glided smoothly across her pale skin.

He wanted to say something, but he would have to bring this moment to an end in order to do that. So he remained silent, taking in as much of her presence as he possibly could. Kenny wasn’t really sure how long the silence continued, but he was positive as to how it ended.

Leah leaned in and kissed his lips chastely before she rolled over and got out of bed. Kenny just sighed and propped his body against the headboard as she went about her morning routine. He listened to the shower as if the running water were the only audible sound in the universe. He finally decided to get out of bed, reluctantly so, and headed for the kitchen.

When Leah stepped out of her bedroom, she grabbed a container of yogurt from the refrigerator, threw it in her bag and kissed Kenny goodbye before she headed out the door. He listened to the click of the lock and the click of her high heels hitting the wooden hallway floor until they died out into silence.

He sighed and held his head in his hands, elbows leaning on the kitchen counter. “What’s happening to me?” He asked her apartment in a quiet desperation.

The familiar room produced no reply.

“Figures.” He muttered, dropping his head to rest against his forearms, palms against his crown. The one time he actually wanted a response, an internal dialogue, the other end decided to abstain.

“Nothing’s wrong with you.” It said.

He laughed. ‘The fact that we’re having this conversation proves otherwise.’

“Or, maybe for the first time in your entirely uneventful life, you’ve finally begun to resemble normalcy?”

He was interested to hear the reasoning behind this, ‘Go on.’

“Since you’ve been with Leah, what’s happened? You’ve been more stable, haven’t killed anything, haven’t been drunk, all things considered, Kenny, this is probably the most normal you’ve ever been.”

‘I don’t deserve her.’

“While that may be true, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want what she probably deserves. She wants you. She loves you, Kenny.”

He nodded with his eyes closed. ‘I know she does.’

“And what about you? Do you reciprocate?”

He paused a long moment before answering. ‘I… I don’t really know.’

“Do you even know what love is?”

‘…Good point.’ He replied. ‘I mean, I care about her, but… I don’t know if I love her.’

“So much meaning behind so few letters.”

He nodded wordlessly in agreement. ‘Hey… can you tell me something?’

“Only if I know the answer.”

‘… Have I ever loved somebody? The way Leah loves me?’

It sighed, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “Yes.”

He smiled, ‘That must have been nice.’

“For a while, it was.” It said nostalgically.

‘But it fell apart, didn’t it?’

If the voice had been given a body, it would have nodded almost painfully.

‘Everything falls apart…” he replied in a sort of trance, ‘everything grows cold and everything dies. Beauty is an illusion. It wilts and decays and in the end the only thing left is an ugly disease.’

“That’s not true. It’s not always like that.”

‘Always… with me.’

It could not offer a contrary reply.

‘I don’t want to taint her.’

“I know.”

‘Aren’t you going to tell me to leave her?’

It sighed, “I doubt it would do much good now. Besides, you never really listen to me anyway.”

He managed a small laugh, ‘Very valid.’

It seemed to smile a little, “What?”

‘Why aren’t you being a sadistic bastard?’

“Because you’re listening to me. I wouldn’t have to be sadistic if you didn’t make me.”

‘Oh, so its my fault?’

“Please, we’ve had a friendly, enlightening discussion. Let’s not spoil it.”

‘Okay.’ He smiled, feeling tired for the first time in months. He decided that his memories wouldn’t bother him this time, and rested comfortably on the couch.

When he awoke, he was surprised to find that it had already gotten dark outside. He’d lost the day, but didn’t really care because he didn’t have anything important to accomplish anyway.

As previously stated, the concept of time was completely irrelevant to Kenny, however; from this point forward, 11:24 PM would remain permanently burned into his mind. 1:06 AM was another significant moment. He would remember exactly where he was, what he was doing, and about what he was thinking. He had been sitting on the couch, watching the TV Guide channel (they were doing a thirty-second spotlight on Matthew McConaughey) and Kenny was thinking about how much he really didn’t care, and was about to flip the channel. The remote was in his hand, the number in the corner of the screen read 1:06 AM as he heard the door to the apartment open.

He glanced over and felt his stomach drop. The remote fell to the floor and he stood up, meeting the eyes of two police officers and the aged landlady.

“Who the hell are you?!” He asked, a little more threatening than he had intended to sound.

“Who the hell are you?! And what are you doing here?!” The taller of the two officers replied, the shorter had already cocked his gun in response.

All the while, the little old woman had been crying out, trying to clear up the situation, but the men ignored her.

He was about to answer their question when the old woman’s voice boomed loudly, “Put those things away!”

The police officers looked to her, “Have you seen this man before?”

“Hey, Mrs. Martin.” He interrupted, waving at the elderly woman.

“Hello, dear.” She said with sadness in her voice. “He’s been staying with Leah for a few weeks.”

“Oh.” They replied simultaneously.

The shorter of the two disarmed his gun.

The taller officer sighed and looked away.

The landlady was clearly upset.

Kenny was perplexed beyond reason. “What the hell is going on?” He asked, dreading their answer.

“Leah died at eleven twenty four last night. I’m sorry.”

At those words, Kenny felt himself go entirely numb.

“It was an obvious homicide, and we’re on a hunt for the suspect.”

“Please, let us know if there is anything that we can do for you.”

“She was a brave girl. She fought back.”

“We should have him in custody within the next day or so.”

“You can spend the night here if you’d like, dear. I won’t be putting it up for rent anytime soon…”

The officers spoke in strong, sympathetic tones while the old woman sounded as if she was about to break but the only thing that Kenny heard was:

Leah died at eleven twenty four last night. I’m sorry.

Leah died at eleven twenty four last night.

Leah died at eleven twenty four.

Leah died.

I’m sorry.

He heard the familiar click of the door as it shut behind the police officers who had finally left. It was sometime around three, but he didn’t care. He remained rooted in place, waiting for the shock to hit him. Kenny waited for the grief-induced mania to begin, but it wasn’t yet happening.

So he stood there and glanced around the room. The kitchen, the couch, the door, the windows, the carpet, the table, the lamp… none of it was the same. The apartment seemed to glare at Kenny, angry at his presence. It seethed with loathing, hissing inaudibly at him. He didn’t belong here. Leah did. Where was Leah, it wanted to know. Where is she? Who are you? You don’t belong here. We don’t want you here. You disgust us with your audacity. You will never replace her. What have you done? What have you done to her? Where has she gone? Will she be returning? …No. She is gone. She is gone and she’s never coming home, never coming back to us. She’s dead and we are alone. We are forever alone. There is no more hope for you. Look what you have done. Leave. LEAVE!

Kenny took a frantic glance around the now-distorted apartment and caught sight of the book he’d once given her on the table. He quickly grabbed it and ran out, leaving the mourning room behind him forever.

When he came to his senses again, he had already rented a room in another shitty motel, somewhat similar to the last one he’d resided in. Now that he’d come down from his daze, he was able to understand the situation. He was back to his old ways. Back to the shitty motels and the one-night stands, the endless alcoholic binges and bad days. He looked at the novel he’d taken from her angry apartment and held it in his hands. This was all he had of her. For years, it had served her as a reminder of his existence… now it was his.

Fuck.

He felt his hands shake uncontrollably and a sick sensation churn in his stomach. His pulse pounded and he clenched his trembling hands into tight fists, dropping the book to the floor. He stood up slowly and walked over to what was supposed to be a kitchen area.

“Why didn’t you tell me I loved her?!” He screamed, grabbing a glass and hurling it at the wall. It shattered loudly into an innumerable amount of pieces.

“Why do you play these fucking games with me?!” If the table had ever dreamt of flight, it certainly achieved it’s ambition, a moment before it collided with a wall. Kenny grabbed one of its splintered legs and smashed in the screen of the television as he screamed out incoherently. Once everything in the main room had been torn to shreds, he swung open the bathroom door so forcefully it fell right off its hinges. A sickening smile spread across his lips at this, satisfied with his work. He continued to smash the cheap glass of the shower door by kicking it until it shattered. He breathed heavily and turned his head, catching sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He moved toward it and slowly reached out, touching the glass with his palm as to line it up with its reflection. Kenny finally drew his hand away from the cold glass and studied it silently for a moment, before plunging his fist into the glass that reflected his image. He saw himself in shattered fragments, which he found appropriate, and drove his fist into it once more.

He braced himself in the frame where the bathroom door had once resided and gasped for air. He surveyed the redecorating he’d done and found himself quite pleased with his achievement. The lamp had been hurled into the window, not hard enough to break the glass, but with enough force to crack it considerably and completely destroy the light fixture. Forks and knives had been stabbed into the walls. The bathroom was a mess of shattered glass and blood… where did that come from? It was dripping down the mirror, in the sink and on the floor. He felt a tingle in his right hand and that answered his question. Shards of glass were imbedded in his fist, which was covered in blood; one particularly noticeable piece had lodged itself between his knuckles.

He sighed in annoyance as he returned to what almost resembled a bathroom and ran the filthy sink water as he picked the bits of the mirror out of his hand. He couldn’t say it hurt, though. He did wince when removing the annoying shard imbedded between his knuckles. He didn’t get all the glass out, but he really didn’t give a shit. It wouldn’t stop bleeding, so he tore off a piece of the sheets and wrapped it around the wounded area as a makeshift bandage. Something told him to get some Neosporin or something to prevent infection, but he was an infection after all, so what did it matter? An infection for an infection.

After a while he managed to calm down. He picked up the book, which had gone untouched, and left the motel in search of a new thing to destroy.

He staggered up and down random, nameless streets without any clear motivation. He had nowhere to go, no particular destination in mind… not that he was thinking in the least. He’d grown exhausted after only a few minutes of this; now aware of the physical toll his violent rampage on the motel room had taken.

Kenny had no desire to rest. He couldn’t rest because if he allowed it even for a moment, he might begin to think about things. He couldn’t do that. It would hurt too much. He would have to confront this nightmare, admit to himself that such an unfathomable atrocity had really happened. That he was, once again, completely and totally alone.

He grabbed his head at the thought, wincing aloud. ‘It wasn’t supposed to happen this way…’ he thought helplessly. Oh, he’d known it was going to end. He’d assured himself of that at the very beginning. Kenny just never would have expected it to happen the way it had. He was supposed to fuck it up. He was supposed to say something to hurt her, horribly offend her to the extent where she would throw him out, cursing and crying. She was supposed to find out what he really was, the things he had done, the circumstances that had brought them together. She was supposed to call the police or threaten him with such things after telling him to keep the hell away from her forever. It was supposed to be his fault!

But this… he couldn’t blame himself for this. He couldn’t have said or done anything to prevent it, and that was what hurt the most. He was helpless. Completely removed from any kind of control.

You couldn’t have stopped this, Kenny. You know that. His mental voice of reasoning pleaded.

He clenched his jaw and refused to acknowledge it.

It’s because you can’t put it on yourself, isn’t it? It’s because you had absolutely no control and that scares the shit out of you.

‘Just leave me alone!’ he ordered mentally, inwardly seething.

She would have died just the same with or without you in her life.

‘Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!’

Does it mean anything to you that maybe you might have made her happy? Yeah, she died and nothing could have changed that, but maybe just having you in her life made her die without regrets? Maybe you made it easier for her to let go? Hell, maybe you gave her the guts to fight back. They told you she fought back, remember?

He did remember, and shut his eyes, turning his head aside trying not to.

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. You’re going to forget her, just like everything else?

“No!” This he said out loud. Realizing this, he shrunk into his shoulders a little and turned his gaze downward at the pavement. ‘I’m not going to forget her… I … I don’t want to… it’s just… “God…” he whimpered pathetically, ready to collapse into a pitiful heap in the middle of the street. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, really…

Will you just get a fucking grip?! It pleaded, just get yourself under control.

He tried to steady himself, breathing deeply and slowly in an attempt to regulate his frantic respiration.

Good. It said, now you need to find somewhere to go.

‘But where?’ he asked himself, ‘she was the last place I had…’

Stop being melodramatic. It commanded, find a freaking hotel room and for the love of God, don’t destroy this one.

‘I can’t help it. It’s what I do.’ He thought in an almost too calm, reasonable tone. ‘And you knew. The whole time, you knew this was going to happen.’

It just sighed, unwilling to reply.

He shook his head with an unsetting upturned expression on his lips. ‘It figures. I knew all the while. That’s why you told me to leave, why you pushed me so hard. I knew everything and I just didn’t want to admit it.’

Welcome to the human condition, Kenny.

Author’s note: I really, really didn’t want to kill Leah. The idea came to me a while ago, before she was a major character and as she developed I grew to like her. I feel terrible about it. But it had to happen. You’ll see why.