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"13"
By Jason Granado
Day 4 – “The heartless chant of the brokenhearted fool”
Hank has waited long for the answer to his great fear, and in the end he finds himself more lost than he could ever imagine. “No I’m not, I know exactly what I need to do so don’t give me that shit. I’m sick and tired of you always doing the same thing, I’m lost, I’m confused, well maybe for once I know exactly what I’m doing? Did you ever think of that huh? No of course you didn’t cause that would require admitting that I actually have some sense of awareness and understanding. God forbid I should actually be a part of this so-called waking life long enough to make an impact or serve my purpose.” As I said before, Hank is lost.
The night was long, and as he expected he finds him on a messed up bed, his hair looking as if a Gorilla had kicked his ass while he slept. “Look, forget about my hair, what I need to find is the cat that keeps crapping in my mouth, man I hate morning breath. You have any idea what the worse part of being married is? It’s the waking up in the morning and expecting a kiss part. Everyone gets morning breath, and some people have horrid, death breath in the morning. Waking up next to your lover in the morning is the moment that will send most people to hell, the world’s most biggest lie if ever there was one. Looking loving into the eyes of the person who is not content enough to suffer with their own morning breathe, but they feel this deep desire to share it with the person who is unfortunate enough to be next to them. It’s a conspiracy I tell you. Fate’s way of fucking with your head.” Hank rambles on some more, but as always I ignore him when he gets this way. “Hey fuck you, I have to listen to your shit don't I? You can at least deal with my ranting in the morning.”
The morning ritual is the same as always, a few rants from the half-witted, “Fuck you, rat bastard” and a run to the bathroom to clean up somewhat. Not that Hank can actually clean up very much, he’s a shit for brained idiot that can’t do anything right. Look at him, staring in the mirror as always, dumbass. “What did I tell you about belittling me? I’m sick of it. One of these days so help me… you’ll be next.” Hank in his delusional rant as usual, nothing ever changes… then again, something’s do.
After a shower and a few shower farts, Hank proceeds to dress and prepare breakfast; which is never a very exciting event since he has had the same thing for the past 25 years of his life. Corn Flakes, coffee, OJ and some buttered toast… all your basic food groups minus the meat. “Hey, maybe if you cooked a little from time to time, I wouldn’t have to be eating the same slop everyday.” There he goes again, throwing something at the wall, its ridiculous I tell you, a grown man acting like a child. Pathetic! “I told you about that dammit.” Well, the day begins, to work.
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“What I choose is my choice, what’s a boy supposed to do? The Killer in me, is the killer in you.” – Bill Corgan
The words from “killer in me” by the smashing pumpkins, rolls like thunder through Hanks mind. As they return from another boring day at the video shop. Long ago, they planned on working there just long enough to save the money they needed to buy Tara the engagement ring she had been eying for ever; but plans don’t always turn out the way you plan them.
Poor Hank, sometimes I look at him and wonder how someone so sweet and kind could possibly become so bitter and cynical. If I could do anything to go back in time and change the events of that fateful day when his world crumbled beneath his feet. He still has nightmares about that day, he’s had them ever since. Though he never remembers them, I hear him clearly as he shouts her name in a heartbroken vow of eternal damnation.
It all happened quickly, but in his minds eye it takes an eternity to take place. The shop closed early because of a power outage, someone in Canada forgot to check one little monitor, and suddenly most of the East coast is covered in darkness and looting. He walked home that day, since the subway wasn’t running; which didn’t bother him since it was a nice warm summer day. He got home around six in the evening, almost three hours since he closed the store for the day. Hank was glad to be home before nightfall cause Tara was always afraid of the dark, something to do with a prank someone played on her as a child. Anyways, he wanted to be there so his wife wouldn’t be scared to death in the dark.
Hank never expected to open the door to there apartment, “Oh God, harder.” To hear the sounds he would hear. “Fuck me, fuck me, harder.” Nor did he expect them to be coming from his wife, “Just like that, oh God, Mmm yes.” When he wasn’t the one with her. “Oh god I’m cumming… Ohhhh”
“WAKE UP!”
Confusion hits him like a blanket of the mind, what the hell is going on here? You know what? I don’t care what the fuck is going on, this bitch is dead. “Hank grabbed the knife that day, a large hunting knife from his days in the southern state of Texas. He was proud that day because his father had brought it for him as a gift.”
“Father into your hands, I commend my spirit. Father into your hands, why have you forsaken me? In your eyes forsaken me? In your thoughts forsaken me? In your heart forsaken… me oh.” – Chop Suey by System of a Down.
“I grabbed that knife and felt the cold blade in my clammy hands, and for the first time in my life I felt alive. It spoke to me, you don’t believe me? I don’t care cause it did. It told me what I had to do because I had a right to. I took my time walking to that room, ‘Oh God, it won’t fit there Dan’, and then I knew who it was that had invaded my home. I trusted the son of a bitch like a brother, and he fucks my slut wife? I opened that door, glad that I had oiled the hinge earlier that week.”
And in that moment since walking into his apartment, Hank was aside himself. Poor honest hearted Hank, had his heart stepped on when he was only trying to get home in time to protect his wife, afraid of the dark Tara, fucking his best friend Tara. I watched Hank that day, as he became someone else, holding that blade the quiet gentle Giant became a raging demon of pure hatred.
When he came back to his sense, his wife was curled up into a ball on the bed, naked as the day she was born. The velvet tears of hatred covered her completely, as she wept and begged for forgiveness from the man she vowed before God to love until death did them part. Poor words chosen by her at that moment.
“I know, how I feel when I’m around you. I don’t know how I feel when I’m around you.” – “Roulette” by System of a Down
The body of her lover lied motionless on the bed, and Hank stared at it with childlike curiosity. His head titled to the side, the huge gaping holes revealing to the open air, parts that were never meant to see the light of day. “Tick, Tock” The blade spoke to him as it drank heavily from the holy grail of life’s blood held within the man who was his brother, his friend.
His cold eyes turn towards the woman that he has loved far more than words can describe, “Get over here Tara.” Shaking like a leaf she cowers away from this stranger with the icy tone in his voice. “Tara, Tara, Tara” The words repeat like a symphony, until all that is left to heard is the beating of his heart, the gurgled sounds of arteries pumping into the open air, and Hank’s symphony in the key of See.
You could have at least fucked her before killing her you know, what difference would it have made? “As if I’d want to touch her after what she did.” But you did touch her you dumbass, you touched her in places she’s never been touched before by any man or woman. You took her virginity, and touched her special parts, not bad for a night don’t you think?
Funny thing about New York City, you can kill a woman in broad day light, and her lover, and no one is the wiser. Everyone’s too busy trying to find candles and figure out what the hell is going on, it’s fucking amazing. Hank didn’t care, he just sat in bed with his wife, kicked her lover off the bed, and took a nap. A few hours later, when all was dark, he put them in plastic bags, and threw them in the trunk of his car.
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I got home from work same as normal, we grabbed some dinner, and I envisioned the scene in my mind. She didn’t make quite as much noise as Tara did, which I’m glad. It’s amazing what limitations one breaks by simply cutting someone’s vocal chords out, gives you plenty of time to get the job done proper. Sadly she was alone, I would have loved to have taken care of the asshole that was with her last night, but oh well, you can’t always get what you want… right Nick?
“Hank day dreaming as always, doesn’t surprise me one bit. What’s the point Hank? You already did the job, it’s not like you can actually go back and change a few things anyway. What’s done is done, now serve the dessert and lets get this party started!” Look, I don’t care what you want ok? I like sitting down afterwards and thinking about this kinda stuff, makes the next one easy to finish, and gives me more time to have fun with it. So if you’re in a hurry, go ahead, I’m not stopping you.
Poor Hank arguing with him again, it’s always the same with them two. After his wife left him, they met and have been the best of friends ever since, though you wouldn’t notice by seeing them argue so much. I like watching them get on like this, they look like a couple, just don’t tell them I said that. Anyways, Hank as always, thinking away, plotting his next day, and Trip, not having a care in the world. The perfect odd couple.
“I wonder if I should have used the saw instead of the switch-blade, nah, she would have screamed more. Maybe I should get a cabin somewhere for the next one, then I can really have some fun. Oh well, I need to get ready for bed anyway, hey Trip, where’d you put the list?” Hank can never find anything in his apartment, oh don’t blame Hank it’s your fault for always trying to “clean” the place, Don’t blame me atleast I try to keep this place from turning into a pigpen, Pigpen, Yeah Pigpen, Oh please you’re just a mother-hen, dammit you two I’m sick and tired of this bullshit, I’ll find it myself.
Grabbing the list and a marker, Hank scratches off the name of the heartbreaker as the other two continue their endless argument. Tuning them out as much as he can, he grabs a quick shower and heads to bed. The symphony long gone by now, he slips into his sleeping wonderland, while the Gorilla sits waiting for him to fall deep enough so the fun can begin.
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©Copyright
Jason Granado. All Rights Reserved.
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Amalgamated Dominance
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