Blue Eyes (By Catherine Matchuk)

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red door by Oz Yigit

          “I am the ultimate symbol of control. I have the ability to carry life and take it away. I had you captured from the start, although you didn’t know why. When you took away my control, you ended your own life. In that sense you have no one to blame but yourself.”

* * *

           I stepped out into the chilly autumn air and closed the townhouse door behind myself. I threw a quick glance at the neighbouring townhouse before continuing along the concrete path. The clicking of my boots echoed loudly through the night, confirming the emptiness of the city. I’d been lonely for the past few months. Unloved, untouched. Alone.

          Early signs of Christmas were already evident in the shop windows. It was a magical time of the year and yet left a bitter taste in my mouth. I had no set destination and no purpose. I was left to drift. I wasn’t looking when I found you.

          Eventually the dimming lights of the park came into view, and that’s where I found you. You were standing by yourself on the small bridge. Your eyes were glancing vigorously into the dark depths of the running water. Your head slowly rose to look in my direction. You were staring blankly at me for a while. Then your eyes filled with curious delight; which proved to be your most fatal flaw. Do you remember when we first met?

          “You have the most beautiful blue eyes,” you said to me. Then you asked me for my name.

          “Minka,” I replied with a crooked smile on my face. Your eyes seemed to glisten as you nodded in approval.

          “Nice name, is it Polish?” I didn’t feel comfortable when you steered the conversation. I wanted to know your name. I wanted you to tell me, and I didn’t want to ask. So I turned on my heel and muttered,

          “Sorry, I don’t talk to strangers,” before I began to walk away. In hindsight, I should have run away from you. But you laughed so sweetly. I was facing away from you but I could see your eyes twinkling with mischief. You seemed to understand me so quickly. So instantly that this moment could only be described as perfect. Fateful even.

          “My name’s Yuuki,” was your response. You were right, Minka is Polish and it means strong warrior. Yuuki is Japanese and means gentle hope. This should have been my first sign that we were a match made in Hell.

          However, despite my hesitation, we started dating. You pampered me, loved me, and covered me in sweet kisses. You told me I deserved the moon; you would even reach out and grab it for me if I asked. I was in control, but that must’ve been too much for you. You screwed up.

* * *

            As part of a marketing team, my job had me travelling long distances for meetings. So I asked you to housesit for me. Despite your eager acceptance of the offer, I could sense the confusion you seemed to radiate. If only you had known this was a test of your loyalty. I was only going to be gone for a day. I would leave Friday morning and return Saturday afternoon.

          On Friday morning, the taxi honked its horn. The smoke from the exhaust slithered out of the tailpipe like a snake. You stood in the doorway of my home, arms desperately hugging your chest. You were shivering.

          I pulled out my key ring and pointed out the various keys. I let you know that with these new townhouses, it was a round key sensor that opened my house. You flipped the blue sensor in your fingers, somehow amused by its shape.

          “Better than an obnoxious pointy key,” I said before leaning in for a goodbye kiss.

          From the backseat of the taxi I watched you shrink from my view. When I was so far away that I could no longer recognize the neighbourhood, I pulled out my laptop and continued to watch you. You were lounging on the living room sofa, unaware of my eyes following your every movement.

* * *

            After my successful meeting, I sat on the hotel room bed. My hands reached out to grasp a cold glass of water, while my eyes followed your steps. I switched cameras as I noticed you enter my bedroom. You opened the door slowly and peaked inside. I was hopeful for you. I didn’t think you would enter the room, but you did. As I said before, you screwed up, and this is how.

          You walked around my bedroom and let your fingers trace my bed sheets, my curtains, my picture frames. Your fat, ugly fingers wanted to caress every possible surface I owned and it sickened me.

          I looked away from the screen and bite back the bile in my throat. I had to take a few moments to catch my breath. Gain back the control I so desperately lost. When I turned back to the screen, your hands were digging in my underwear drawer. Even though your back was turned to me, I could see the stupid smirk on your face.

          Your hands stopped suddenly, and you pulled out a blue sensor key. You stared at the key in amazement. Your eyes stayed glued to it as you reached into your back pocket and pulled out my set of keys. You compared them, then studied the writing on them.

          It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you found You dug your own grave, I’m so sorry. I wanted to rush back home and throw myself in your warm arms, but I had to kill you. I hope you’d understand.

          I sighed loudly and squeezed my eyes shut. I guess I’ll be coming home early, my darling. My life, my love.

* * *

            “So I rushed home, and well,” I pause, “you know the rest.” You’re staring back at me, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Your body would be flopped on the ground if I didn’t tie you securely to the chair. Somehow I doubt that you liked me telling the story of how we met, and the actions that lead to your death. You just stare blankly at me, not amused.

          I let my fingers run through your stringy hair. Flies buzz above our heads, and the smell of decay is so overpowering. I place one last kiss on your cold lips.

          “I’m so sorry it had to be this way,” I whisper in your ear, “but you boys will never learn will you?” I look over your shoulder into the long, dark hallway. Other bodies, other failures stare back at me. Some aren’t even recognizable anymore. Lord help me, I can’t remember who I’ve killed. I laugh loudly at this thought.

          “I am the ultimate symbol of control.” I say. “I have the ability to carry life and take it away. I had you captured from the start, although you didn’t know why. When you took away my control, you ended your own life. In that sense you have no one to blame but yourself.” I glance around the room. This speech is for every one of you assholes who were curious enough to look in my underwear drawer.

          This home is a museum of stupidity. I can’t wait to start dating again.

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