By Jane Gerald
He watched, his hands on the frosted glass wall and his head lowered, as the etch of his sin grew larger on the wet floor. The red of the blood marred the pristine whiteness of it. On his body, the hot water of the shower tried its best to remove the spots and blotches of evidence on the skin where it landed.The result was tiny crimson rivulets going down the length of his body.
His eyes caught a fee clump of it on his chest hair and he moved his right hand to take care of it, leaving an imprint where the steam had not got to the glass. He could have sworn he’d set the water to white hot. But why, as he thought about the pressure of it concentrating between his shoulder blades, did it feel like his skin was barely in recognition of that fact?
Kigen pushed back both his hands on his head to squeeze out water from his luscious locks. He closed his eyes to let the defiant streams from the running water wash over the front of his face. Once he felt done, he turned the shower knob in an anticlockwise motion, watching drops of water gliding on its shiny chrome surface.
His hand lingered on it for more than was necessary, as if he had momentarily had a slip of the mind. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before he let himself out the now sauna like space, careful not to trip given that his shower was slightly elevated of the bathroom floor.
Seeing no need for a towel, he moved towards mirror, now beaded and misty on top of the bathroom sink. He was reminded of a car’s wipers as his palm moved over the surface to clear it. He wanted to see if some sort of change could be seen on him. If somehow, what he had done had marked him and was now for the whole world to see. To seek him, punish him for the atrocity.
He had killed. In his reflection he hoped to find some sort of gauge as to how he was feeling about it. He did not know how to react, leave alone what to think or do. Looking back at him were deep set muddy brown eyes and in between them an authoritative nose features that suited his no nonsense demeanour. His facial hair was limited to a well groomed moustache, and the firm lines of his lips seemed to be in an I-know-something-you don’t smile. He inspected the breadth that was his chest, making sure nothing was left. His tall, lean frame had helped with the women and he was not shy of this fact.
He headed out of the small grey walled bathroom of decent decor. Leaving wet prints on his varnished floor as he moved across the room, Kigen was well aware of the fact that the plan had come very close to going up in flames. Remembering that brought back the motor in his veins and limbs. He began to experience the first of his pent up emotions.
First came the fear that came in cognition of his crime. It sent shudders all over his body before giving into a deep menacing anxiety. He hurried towards the top drawer of his chest and its contents rattled and shook with the movement. He went through the mess, moving the brown pill bottles filled with all kinds of psychedelic drugs in search of the particular one he sought.
He also saw some of his buds, stuffed in medium sized plastic bags. He reached for one and a packet of flavoured rolling papers. Having found the MDMA, he proceeded to crush two into a fairly fine powder and after grinding the weed, mixed them and made blunts out of it.
It was all so fast, he looked possessed. Kigen sat on his bed and looked around the decently furnished rooms. With its deep red and black theme, it seemed to echo what his mind tried to make of the situation. Clothes, strewn all over reminded him of the load he needed to destroy.
He put one blunt almost to the side of his mouth and lit it. He took a long deep draw and held it.Out came a large cloudy white and then another draw. Suddenly, laughter escaped him. The bouts shook his whole body till tears pooled at the corners of his eyes.
As his body began settling into his euphoric state of mind, thoughts of the secret he’d killed to protect began creeping into his mind. Three more puffs and he lay back.It was the thing he feared the most in his life. That someone else could discover it was unimaginable. Had he thought that it would never get to a point where he would have to take a life? No. But he’d still drive the knife in and out of his victim if it meant that his secret is safe. ‘Wait a minute,’ he thought and suddenly sat up.