And I said, “It’s all over”.
She cried. I died.
It was beautiful but and was amazing till it lasted, I never deserved it though; I only deserved the hatred and… the bullets.
But,
My Life was simple once, was easy and then I saw the smiles and those eyes, the smiles that were hiding a thousand pain and the eyes that hid an ocean of tears.
It was the midnight December, cold and shivering but still lively and jovial and the streets of 27th Avenue was being decorated like a princess for the New Year eve. While one was being decorated the other princess was standing at the corner, a coffee in one hand and a red balloon in the other, it was cute… but not her disdaining smiles and neither her dead deep eyes. It was hard to get into her hidden emotions in a happy milieu but this had to happen and my eyes caught her and it couldn’t get off her face but the balloon was about to take off. I stood and ran straight to her, halted steps before and caught the strings.
And I said, “take care”.
She smiled. I died.
Life was simple yet, was not so easy and I saw the smiles and those eyes, in the dreams, day and night.
It was the valentine morning, foggy and romantic with the aroma of roses spread all over the 27th Avenue. It was the day for the love lost souls and I was happy in my room, playing Counter-Strike with no other plans yet and then my phone rang but thanks to the network, I had to move out in the terrace and thanks to the network because, there she was, standing at the flower spot, caressing the flowers but buying none and I was standing there with the phone in my hand, lost.
Few moments and she turned to walk back and I to run down the stairs, walked a few steps and then slowed down, she felt me there, turned.
And I said a “hi”.
She shied. I died.
Life was getting complex, but much beautiful everyday and I saw the smiles and those eyes every evening at 5.
It was the scorching evening of March, the sun was yet to set and I was waiting at the 27th Avenue Garden. We became good friends by then, had a few things in common and shared a lot of stories. We had developed a great understanding though I wasn’t able to catch many a things she wanted to say but I was learning to understand the sign language.
I had waited for a few minutes there and then she came right on time, with the prettiest face, the cutest smile, the gorgeous hairs and the beautiful eyes. She was the actual princess of my life, but I wasn’t the prince but yet, took her hand…
And I said, “I love you”.
She replied. I died.
Life was getting harder, but the moments spent with her had me transported to my childhood and had made me understand what life actually is. She was just a child, innocent and pretty but then the sad end of her eyes always irked me, I never asked though… I wasn’t able to.
It was the rainy august night, the rain drops hit the ground as if they had to avenge some dreadful doing, the 27th Avenue looked a silent victim and I was having my cup of coffee when my doorbell beeped. I looked out and there she was, all wet and terrified, rushed her in and made her comfortable and I had to give the only jacket I had.
Few minutes it took, to get her settled and I calmly waited for that, she did.
And I said, “What happened?”.
She clarified. I died.
Life was worse, so was I and that is what I had made it for her. I looked my eyes in the mirror, closely, they were much deader than her, I had the reason for all her hidden pains that night and it was me.
It was the same rainy August night, exactly a year ago; I was given a contract to shoot a lawyer and I never asked the reasons because I was trained to shoot, anyone, anytime. All my childhood, after my parents were shot dead in a fake encounter, I played with guns and bullets and I never missed my target, ever.
I wish… I had missed one that night.
The lawyer was her father, who had left behind a wife who got mentally disturbed and a daughter, who could never speak. Their only bread earner was gone and the life thereafter was made hell, every man on this earth needs some money to survive, she tried hard and then she had only one option to choose. Every night, she dealt with the same pain but different devils, only to feed her mother and pay her medical bills.
I had never felt anything like that before, my hands had murdered a thousand men and I shivered for the first time ever, thinking about the families left behind.
And I said, “I Quit.”
I cried. I died.
Life was hell, but I was trying to make it better, all her troubles were easing day by day.
It was the sunny December morning, the 27th Avenue was again decorated like a princess, and the other one was being decorated as well. It was the wedding day and the life was going in the right trail and I never knew going office was fun, having friends was life and having responsibilities had its own meaning.
I fell in love again she came down in her white wedding gown and her face looked whiter, her smiles were lively, her eyes alive and all I had to do was to make that live forever but forever may end anytime.
Someone had given the contract to shoot me, the bullet crushed through my heart and I was down on the floor, she came running and her tears couldn’t stop. I took her hands…
And I said, “It’s all over”.
She cried. I died.
–END–