The Nightmare

A gasp broke from my lips and a sharp pain seemed to well up from the depths of my being.  The door slammed and the walls shook with all the feelings of vengeance and passion.  Then I heard it.  Like a paper-thin sheet of glass flicked by a fingernail, it rained down on the cold dry pavement.  Pieces of my heart bounced and shattered as they scattered across the room.  I could see every piece glisten like diamonds as the sun shone through the skylight in the roof.  My stomach seemed to come alive with every creepy crawly creature, moth, and butterfly.  My eyes welled up with tears and the sting of a thousand bees pierced my sight.  I could see only lights and shadows. But the tears - the tears would not separate.  They seemed to be on a tether and stretched down my face, but again refused to separate from my eyes.

From outside I could hear the car engine turn over, only seconds after hearing the heavy white door close with a thud.  The door seemed to echo the sober sound of unforgiving.  As the car roared to life, I could hear the engine scream with the fury of a thousand stampeding cattle across a dry lakebed.  And then there was the movement.  The car began to leave, but it was so much more than that.  It was the stagecoach of death’s deliverer stealing my love, my joy, my very being.  The tires tore into the dusty dry gravel as if they had never eaten, starved for the next inch of road before them.  And just like that she was gone.  The brightly lit room became dark and dismal and every shadow seemed to creep towards me with the anticipation of devouring my soul.  I looked up and as the room began to grow around me.  I felt as if I would shrink and fall into the cracks, to become consumed by the emptiness surrounding me. 

I forced myself towards our room and held my gaze as I walked past our bed.  I could not bear the thought of looking where I would be forced to lay alone in this cold empty nest.  I walked towards the closet, which was only lit by a small dim bulb.  I opened the glass door of my gun cabinet and removed the shiny angry revolver.  It was brilliantly engraved with swirls and twists and felt cold and angry in my hand.  I held the barrel to my chest and said a quick silent prayer, “Lord, make the pain stop”.

My finger gripped the trigger with all the force of a newborn baby holding his mothers finger tightly with both hands.  The hammer from the pistol creaked backwards and slowly and methodically snapped into place.  With a crack it released and began its flight forward!  Screaming towards its ultimate goal with all the fervor of a sparrow diving through the air! 

“Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep”!!!  The alarm clock screamed at me in its relentless voice.  I slowly came to and felt the weight of her head on my left shoulder and a gentle wisp of air floating past her slightly open lips.  She was in my bed, next to me where she belonged, and quietly, I began to weep.   

Jr Munoz