Jixi

I felt I had grossly ten-odd more years to go, and it still sounded like an awful amount of time to me. I entered into a deep-almost meditation-like-reflection about what to devote that remaining decade of my life to. Gambling? Carousing? All of it sounded incredibly dull, and just thinking of it made my eyelids quiver with despair.

I was not always a dubious character. As a child, I would usually be romping around the house with Jixi, our family dog, grinning like a stupid. But one day something happened. Some classmates of mine showed up at the front porch, one wearing a cap and holding a baseball bat. They were 6 of them, the shortest standing almost behind me. When he started bawling in my direction, I couldn't help turning my head and gazing at him, and this is when I received the blow on the nape of my neck. I fell down immediately.

When I regained consciousness, they were hauling Jixi towards the main road. The poor dog was going eek, eek and it didn't seem to be able to stand anymore. Its hindquarters were oozing a dark, brown liquid on the concrete sidewalk. Then they threw it under a passing truck which didn't even stop. I heard the bones crackle like the crepitations of a bonfire.

I balked at that vision first, refusing to believe what had just happened, right in front of my eyes. But without them knowing it, they had just planted a ferocious and poisonous seed somewhere deep down the root of my brain.

Today it is sixteen years later, and I am standing here for the big finale. I've already muddled with the lives of the others, but I wanted to keep baseball-bat-man for the end. I knock on his door, and he opens almost instantly, groaning. The door chain protecting from intruders sprinkles into millions of shiny stars as I hammer the axe on the left sidewall of his nose, slicing a part of his left eyeball on the way. Squeals of terror seem to be erupting from down his stomach, but I quickly put an end to all of that ugly noise with an horizontal strike right below his earlobe. He falls inert on his wall-to-wall carpet, in a pale imitation of my own old performance. I then out of nowhere repeatedly step on his neck until the whole thing is flat as an old tire and his head disengages from his body and the whole thing happens with squishy squishy sounds and the place smells like iron and it seems that now I'm having a stiffy.

I leave the axe in the apartment, the lights on, and the door open. And it is with an enlightened heart that I am going down the stairs when that woman who surely was a knockout when she was young smiles at me and I smile back and then I know I finally know that in my whole life and in the whole universe I have never been as so charming as now.