End on Mend

The men were so proud of the double-paneled closet that they were able to make. Their egos were increasing, aggression was passing through. It was twice that of an average man in height, mahogany in color. In the end, I took the room where it was situated.

In the unusual house were plenty of rooms that were untouched and unseen. Everything was in total sepia tone reflected from the afternoon lights, there were no artificial lights in the house. I grew weary of waiting for the night. The paranoia of not being able to see in the darkness was frightening so I decided to sleep early. I reposed on the bed beside the unused closet.

I woke up too early and I knew it was 4 o'clock in the morning. Everything was black and I could not see the closet. I stood up, bothered. Then I started hearing noises outside the door, as if people were talking quietly. I stood in front of the door, but did not open it. I was about to do something when an usual companion suddenly entered the room, the afternoon-like lights outside my room attacked with speed and shed little light. He was homosexual, entered and smiled. As if used to my existence, he disconcertingly proceeded straight to a side of the bed and slept.

This was not my territory, so I went home.

From the unknown process, I saw the civilization. I ascended to the building in order to get to my apartment. As I passed through the afternoon-lit corridor, I put the key to where I would reside, entered and closed the door.

My sister was visiting. She was checking everything, the discourse I was having with her was lucid, but the people from the other doors outside were creating unwanted noises reaching the corridor. In the end, we decided to let a few children in and eat. With this, we let the door open.

We ate quietly on the large table. There was a healthy little girl with long curly black hair; she was showing indifference. There was also a pregnant youth, her hair was straight and blond. The conversation was not interesting. After eating, some of the children passed through the door with their fithy dishes and gave it to my mother. She was sitting low, with buckets filled with water, to wash the dishes willingly. It was part of the routine, anyway, so we agreed. By the time a few more children were going out, she was amazed by how many plates and utensils were piling up. She remained submitted to the routine. It irritated me extremely. I decided to resist.

After I was done, I left my finished dish on the table and stood up to block the exit. I told to what was left of the kids that they have their dishes be cleaned on their own. With clarity and staring, they nodded unhesitantly. I sat back to observe the effect of the discipline I established.

Led by the little girl with the curly hair and followed by the pregnant youth, they stood and went out to give their dishes to my mother, who accepted the bullshit willingly.

I grew fatigued and cut the line before they even give their dishes to my mother. The corridor outside the apartment changed into a bricked hallway, like that of an ancient cityhall. I said to stop, but they did not care.

The girl with the curly hair stared at my mother with deep pity, hinge of indifference existing. That was pulled the trigger: I was enraged wholeheartedly. To express my rage, I grabbed her hair and shook it violently. I did not know to who the pregnant youth was worried about. I did not care, I literally wished she would bleed and die.

I declared that it does not mean that way and that she only needed to follow with respect. She was looking at me indifferently the whole time, just like a doll. I forcefully dropped her where she was left lying on the ground, motionless, as if it was finally her time to be executed.

The outside looked like the Renaissance hallway and I went inside.