Shadowless

If something had warned me that getting up would mean my death and that my body would be found in a history book two months later, perhaps I would not have gotten out of bed that Sunday morning.

The sound of footsteps in the dark approaching my room woke me up in the middle of the night, and although they pretended to be stealthy, the incessant muted tapping caused a roar in my tranquility that ended up upsetting my nerves. Like a cat alert to a lurking intruder, I became uneasy, tore my face off the pillow, removed the warm blankets from my half-naked body, and jumped up, hiding myself behind the door as the stranger approached from the outside.

The handle of the lock began to turn, I panicked, I live alone in this house and no one but Jay could enter without advice, but if I'm sure of one thing, it's that after what I did to him, he will never cross the threshold of my door again, not even to return the keys.

When the door opened, the intruder just entered, his clumsiness made me hesitate, but he was just that, an intruder approaching my bed. In the midst of the shadows I glimpsed what appeared to be a dagger on his right hand; I did not intend to stay to confirm it, so in an almost involuntary movement I left the room, I banged on the door with all my might against the frame, maybe trying to lock him in, whileI ran away. I fled in the dark looking for the main exit, it was closed, the keys? I had no idea.

I ran down the hall looking for the exit to the backyard, but just before I got there I collided with the stranger who pounced on me with enormous force, we hit the wall, the glass of a table broke while we struggled. He took me by the neck without hesitation and sought with all his might to strangle me. I defended myself, fought desperately until the air returned to my lungs, I felt I was choking on my own breathing. I suddenly remembered the dagger and tried to take his hands to make sure that he would not use it against me, I failed in the attempt, my opponent, with his right hand was already holding not a dagger but a gun. I was sweating cold, but still fighting, we rolled in the shadows, I can no longer remember if he was on me or I on him. 

The next thing I remember is the snap, the light and then the explosion, for an instant I saw his hazel eyes penetrating mine. At this point I did not know who had received the bullet but I soon found out that it was him, when his motionless body resting on mine soaked my face with what I assumed was blood.

What happened next was a sequence of almost disjointed actions in which I detached myself from his inert body, I woke up still stunned by the sound of the explosion that seemed to echo in my own brain. Then I made the most stupid and absurd decision of my life: I got dressed and ran away from my own house through the backyard. I did not take the time to discover the identity of the intruder, but as I fled, I kept asking myself who he was. Both exits were closed from the inside, so when did he enter my house? How long had he been hidden inside? I would never know.

In my mind, still affected by the situation, I was a murderer, I had killed a man, and someone would chase me for that, the most logical solution in my brain was to run away: where? Jay would help me.

- Please help me! - I begged him crying from a public phone. At first, I assumed he would not answer my call, in fact, he did because he did not recognize the incoming number, in the end my phone had been forgotten at the crime scene. Crime scene? I still cannot believe I just killed a man. 

Yet, Jay listened to my story, and although I promised to tell him everything upon my arrival, he simply remained silent. I asked him to stay at his house, I needed a place to stay for a couple of days while I decided what to do.

When I got to his building, I noticed him from the distance, leaning against a tree watching Sam, a Golden Retriever, who was wandering in the park.

I approached to him and feeling embarrassed I tried to thank him for his help. When the dog recognized me he approached, it was logical that he recognized me, he had lived with me since he was a puppy, two years had passed since then, he was my dog, but for reasons that I do not want to remember, he was now in Jay's care.

I smiled slightly, which he rejected with the most frivolous of indifferences, as if I did not exist.

- Let’s go home! - That “home” sounded so distant and yet, it was there where I was heading to.

When he opened the door of his apartment he did not even invite me in, he only waited in silence for a few moments until using the dog as a decoy to warn me - Are you going in or are you going to stay out?

I entered.

Jay closed the door behind me.

- Jay! … - I searched his eyes with my gaze, - Jay? - He completely ignored me, again.

I followed him into our, his room, we sat on opposite extremes of the bed, but we were not able to say anything. The sighs seemed to rumble through the walls of the room. I was silent despite the fact that I wanted to burst into tears and tell him what just had happened. I remained silent, I supposed that I should give him time.

When I noticed that he got up I let out in almost a whisper the phrase: "I will leave as soon as possible." He left the room, the dog followed him.

It was not until late that night when he returned. I pretended to sleep but that did not matter, he took his phone and unsuccessfully tried to make a call, then he lay down next to me leaving a desert in the middle of our bodies.

That ritual was repeated night after night for weeks. I tried to talk to him, he never answered. I thought that at some point our forced closeness would eventually unite us, but it did not happen.

During the day he was out, to pass the time I simply read, I became addicted to a history book that had remained in my house for months. There was a time when Jay, excited about the Mayan history, used to read a fragment of that book every night before sleeping. I remembered that before the incident at my house, I would have returned the book to him, what I did not remember was the sealed envelope that remained inside of it. I tried to open the envelope but I stopped myself, it was not my place. I put the book down on the nightstand and forgot the envelope inside.

Every night, Jay repeated the call from his cell phone, I assumed he was trying to make me understand that there was someone else in his life, however, that someone never answered.

The days passed and I became a ghost that lived with the memory of a loved one that although was sleeping next to me, he did not even talk to me.

- I miss you! - I heard him saying on the phone one night.

I experienced a strange feeling of loneliness when hearing that phrase.

I tried to leave the room immediately, but I noticed that he was flipping through the history book, I waited longing to discover something I already knew.

Jay found the envelope.

With delicate caution he opened it, it was my own handwriting on it. I sat next to him; my cold breath made me understand that I was turning pale.

"I am very sorry Jay. I lied. I never cheated on you. I just do not want to be your jailer or fight for a vain purpose. Take care of Sam, now he is yours. I love you forever. Mike. "

Behind that note he discovered an official envelope with a medical seal.

Then, as a victim of an adrenaline rush, Jay got out of bed, took the keys, and left the apartment.

His hands trembled as he grasped the bunch of keys and inserted the correct one into the lock. No one had entered my house since the night of the crime, the corpse of the man I killed would still be on the ground, decomposed, forgotten. So it was, when Jay crossed the hall he found the smelly and rotting corpse of a man, or what was left of him, still holding the gun with his right hand. 

Jay started crying desperately, I could not understand why. I had to approach and look closely at the man's body to understand that a murder had not occurred that day, but a suicide, and that stranger was no other but me.