Bearing the unbearable

Submitted into Contest #86 in response to: Write a story where flowers play a central role.... view prompt

2 comments

Crime Fiction Sad

I felt my eyelids fluttering. It was heavy, cold, lonely. I felt drained and that I had lost all my limbs. Then I had realized, I was already awake.

I found myself lying inside the hospital bed. The room was warm and comfy, the lights went blur when I had opened my eyes. I couldn’t remember who I was, what I did, did I get married, or did I have kids. Not a single memory had popped out of me. I even forgot that I’m a human. Thankfully, I saw a billboard outside the window with a man endorsing a new product. It had a caption—be a human. Well yeah, I immediately thought that I’m a human. But was I really human?

I felt a sting in my eyes that I wanted to scratch them only to find out, I had handcuffs on my left hand. Gosh! Among all the things that I can’t remember, why did I remember handcuffs? Was it essential in my life? Was it something that had stopped me from doing something wrong?

I was about to reach my eyes with my right hand when still, it had handcuffs. What am I supposed to do? The sting on my eyes is growing and it’s spreading. 

I screamed in pain. Yet, no one had come to help me. Minutes passed and I felt that a vein in my brain had popped. I couldn’t do anything. I just closed my eyes as I felt my heartbeat growing stronger and stronger.

Suddenly, two men in the black suit went near me. They had guns. One was bald. He was black. He had a thick mustache. He was as tall as a 6-foot shelf. I couldn’t see the emotions in his eyes since he was wearing blue-colored shades. But I could see the emotions on his lips and cheeks. He bit his lips as if he were going to eat me. His cheeks were rising to his eyes. Was he angry?

On a spur of a moment, he shot my left hand. No sorry, he shot the handcuff on my left hand. I was about to scream when he had shot it. I thought that he’d kill me. Then I concluded, he wasn’t angry.

The alarms went on and a siren went blaring. 

The other one was white. He had ash-colored hair. Still, he had shades, but it was odd. It was tainted red. What dumb sh*t would wear shades like that inside a hospital? 

He also shot my handcuffs but on the other side. 

“Who are you?” I asked unknowingly.

“No time to ask,” the guy with red-tainted shades insultingly said.

Then, the man with blue-colored glasses carried me like a firefighter. His body was lean, masculine, but calloused. My hospital gown got loosed but he fastened it back again.

I had no time to ask and protest what was happening. I had no energy to argue. I just let the man carry me. 

The man in red-tainted glasses shot the glass window and jumped out. I felt agitated. Are they really going to kill me? They had just uncuffed me, and now they’re going to kill me? That’s sick!

Then the man with blue-colored shades tightened his grip on my body. The alarms continued to echo in the room. 

“Hold on,” he reminded. Or did he warn?

Suddenly, he ran towards the broken windows and jumped out. That’s when I realized that he never reminded me–he warned me.

When we had jumped, I thought I lost my soul. I closed my eyes. I felt the air creeping on my body. It felt like we were falling from heaven and were going to hell. I thought we were going to die. 

Then when we had jumped, an inflatable pool caught us. I felt relieved, but still, I felt nervous. I felt that my knees were shaking and that like I was in the middle of the sea, no one to look for.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the man with blue-tainted shades smiling at me. 

“Yow, homie. Ya okay?” He gestured with a thumbs up.

“Ye..yea..yeah,” I stuttered. I mean, who wouldn’t stutter after all that happened.

He just laughed.

“It’s just three floors man,” he continued smirking. I kinda felt humiliated. I almost fainted but only to know, we had just jumped from three floors! If only I had known, I would have jumped out by myself. Or was I really? I don’t know.

The man with blue-tainted shades carried me back again and ran. While we were running, cops were shooting at us. The one who carried me just continued running as if we were bulletproof. 

He dodged, I mean we dodged because he carried me, through several parking lots and narrow streets. There were helicopters already. Then I thought, is this man carrying me a fugitive? 

See, if he wasn’t, will the police keep running after us? I had just noticed that the man with the odd glasses, the one with red-tainted glasses, was lost ever since we had jumped from the hospital. Not that I missed him, I mean, who would miss a man with odd glasses. Sh*t.

The man with blue-tainted glasses just ran and ran. He was good at it. I can tell that he got used to it since he didn’t even trip off while carrying me.

We had gone inside a subway. Then he took a left. Another left. And a right. I gawked at the back and saw that we lost the cops.

When we had met a dead end, the man with blue-tainted shades put me down.

“You can…you..can..stand right?” He said while he was panting.

“Yes,” I immediately answered. He put me down and breathed hard.

“Just sit there,” he said as he pointed to a corner. I followed with obedience. 

Still, I couldn’t remember anything.

Where we were was a section of a subway. The place was filled with nose breaking smell that you could hardly breathe. It smelled like nobody had ever lived there. It smelled like dead rats and rotten eggs.

The man with blue-tainted shades grabbed a radio from his pocket while I sat down.

“Sherman,” he called.

Yeah I hear you, Randy,” the man on the radio answered.

“So you’re Sherman?” I asked the man with blue-tainted shades.

He looked at me and nodded.

“Who’s that guy ya talking to?” I asked.

“So you really don’t remember anything, Mike?” He told me. 

“I am Mike?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah, and it's Randy our teammate, that I’m talking to in this hell of a radio. You saw him earlier. The one with red shades?”

So now, at the very least, I already knew my name– Mike. It sounded dumb sh*t, doesn’t it?

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t know my name? Hell no!”  Randy said over the radio.

“Yeah. He probably doesn’t,” Sherman told Randy.

Keep your heads down. I’ll call you later. The cops are still on the run.”

After the call, Sherman kept back the radio inside his pocket. 

I noticed that Sherman was very familiar with the place though it’s stenchy. He went inside an abandoned car and grabbed a huge black bag.

He threw the bag to me and clamored.

“Change your clothes. You smell and look like the Walking Dead.”

I got the bag and opened it. I saw a gun and a bunch of clothes.

I grabbed the gun and asked him, “How about this?” I said while I pointed the gun at him.

“Woah! Easy Mike. You might kill me.”

Sherman approached me and got the gun. He removed his glasses and put them on the ground. I saw that his eyes were green like he was a mythical creature

I went to the back of the abandoned car and changed my clothes. I grabbed jeans and a plain brown shirt. I wore sneakers. But damn, the shoes smelled awful. Nonetheless, I knew I needed them, so I wore them. After changing, I went back to Sherman. Maybe he knew something about me.

“Sherman, do you know anything about me?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know a lot about you. Probably? Everything about you?” He chuckled.

“Why were the cops chasing after us?”

“God!” he screamed. “Mike, you’re a serial killer! You just killed your….”

He didn’t yet finish when I butted in, “What’s a serial killer?”

“Sh*t!” he screamed as he kicked a bottle of whiskey on the floor.

“You,” Sherman said as he put his finger on my forehead, “kill people. You murder them. I mean, we murder them.”

“Why ‘we’?” 

He laughed. “You really don’t remember anything. It’s a ‘we’ because we are a team, baby!”

He giggled for a few seconds then it faded away.

 Then, he continued.

“Did you know that your mother died?.....”

He kept saying about things, about people, about what had happened. But what I was curious about was the ‘mother’ thing. It was a ‘your’ so it means, it's mine– my mother. But I didn’t know what a mother is.

“What’s a mother?”

He sank into a peal of deep laughter once more. He giggled so hard that he put his hand on his belly. Then he answered me.

“A mother is the one who cared for you. Who had kissed your little cheeks when you were young. The one who gave your f*ck*ng life, Mike!”

I forgot everything. But one thing that I hadn’t forgotten is the feeling of pain. I felt that my heart melted in deep agony. I know that I forgot my mom, but still, it’s too painful. Among all the feelings that I can still remember, pain dominated my heart. 

One who gave me life? Who the hell would kill someone who gives life?  I thought.

“But I tell you, Mike, if I were you, I wouldn’t find your mother,” he continued.

“Why?” I asked while my eyebrows started to cross.

“Because you…” he halted. “No, this is nuts. I think it’s better if you figure it out yourself.”

He grabbed his bag and scrambled over. He grabbed a pen and tore a piece of paper from a notebook.

“This is the address. This is where your mother was killed.”

San Diego, 1783 Street

“Who killed her?” I asked angrily. My mind is about to erupt but I kept myself calm. I know I had to be resilient. I swore to myself that if I find the person who had murdered my mother, I’m going to kill him.

Sherman handed me the gun.

“Here, use this.”

I got the gun and placed it in my pocket. Still, Sherman hadn’t answered my question, so I asked him again.

“Who killed my mother, Sherman?” 

He just laughed. He answered me with the most sh*tty answer I could ever perceive about.

“Just be careful with the flowers. Like this. This is a flower. I just showed you this because I know that you don’t know what a flower is, isn’t it?” He said while he got a flower from his bag. It was magnificent with big yellow petals. “Be careful. Especially the roses, but this is not a rose. I don’t have one. Just know that roses are lovely to behold. But just be careful, it has thorns, it might deceive you and kill you.”

“What’s with the flowers?” I asked.

Suddenly, we heard several footsteps approaching us. It was heavy and many. It was the police.

“Now, go. Find what you’re looking for. I bet on you,” Sherman said as he charged towards the police. Sherman did not hesitate. It felt like we really had this intimate relationship. He took care of me.

I just followed the road inside the subway. I ran. It was smelly. Very smelly. I was running while I gripped the gun in my left hand. 

I passed by a house. It was made of oak, painted green. There near the main door was a red vintage car. It was open. I just saw the owner going inside the house without even locking his car. And now, I’m free to go. 

I glared around to see if some eyes are watching me, but there are none. I immediately ran towards the car. I went inside it and locked the door. But, sarcastically, I knew I had amnesia, but when I had taken hold of the steering wheel, God! I remembered how to drive!

Just as I was about to turn the ignition switch, the owner went out and saw me. I saw how his eyes bulged out of nervousness. But I hurriedly revved up the car and screeched away. I just saw the owner of the car through my rear-view mirror scratching his head.

I drove past buildings and skyscrapers. I was running at 40 miles an hour. I opened the window, and I felt the cool breeze entering the car. I felt relieved, but I knew I had to find something out. I had to kill the one who murdered my mom. 

One who gave your life. Sherman’s words kept on echoing inside of my head. I felt my blood boiled with anger. I swear by my life that if I find that egghead, I’ll shoot him in the head.

When I stopped near an intersection, I saw an old man with a cigarette in his mouth. His smoke was thick and I could say, he was enjoying his moment. 

“May I ask, mister?”

“Oh,” he said. “Yes?”

“Do you know where this street is?” I said while I handed him the piece of paper Sherman gave me.

He read it for a second and told me, “You are just on the right street young man!”

He handed me back the paper. 

“Are you a police officer? I bet you wanna see the crime scene that happened here last week. God! That crime was awful!” He exclaimed.

He stared at my face. He stared at my eye. His eyes suddenly widened. He was scared as if he had seen a ghost. Then, he suddenly ran away.

I was about to ask the old man about what happened, but several cars were already lining up at my back. They were already honking and noisy. The old man vanished in a distance. He seemed like running away from a monster.

I parked the car in front of a green house. I walked for a while. I was still mad and desperate to find out who was the man had killed my mother.

Then, when I made a left after reaching a corner, I saw a crime scene. It was encircled with several yellow and black barricade tapes. I saw that there were still many police officers. I remembered how the old man had run away from me and so, I decided not to take a closer look. Then, when I had crossed the street, I saw a placard that had inscribed words,” MURDERED MOTHER.”

My heart thumped strongly and was eating me. I felt very angry. I felt very furious. I looked up and saw a CCTV camera that was pointing directly at the crime scene. I knew that there must be some scenes that the camera had recorded. I had learned that the camera was owned by the owner of the blue house right across the street. 

I softly pressed their doorbell while I prepped my gun. When the owner of the house opened the door, I immediately pointed the gun towards her. She was a girl in her mid-40s. Had white hair and deep-seated wrinkles. She didn’t have time to scream. She froze in horror.

“Get out,” I told her while I pointed the gun on her forehead.

She stepped out of the house and immediately run towards the police across the street. While I was about to close the door, the police looked at me and run towards me. I locked the door and had it barricaded with several tables.

I immediately ran upstairs to see whether the CCTV footage was on that house. Luckily, I found it. There was only a single tape left and had a label, “Murdered Mother.”

Then, I immediately inserted the tape into the player and watched.

The police were already shouting outside.

“Surrender young man!” They said in the megaphone. “You got no place to go. Come clean before we get to you.”

As the film played, I saw myself.

How come that I’m in that movie? I thought. 

Then, suddenly, I saw myself bringing a bouquet of flowers. No! it was Roses.

I suddenly felt an excruciating feeling inside my head. It felt like dying. I can feel my veins bulging out and as if they were going to explode. I lied down on the floor due to a very painful feeling. It was unusual. 

Then, suddenly, I remembered everything. I remembered my mom, my life, what I had experienced, my girlfriend, and all the crimes I had committed. I had remembered what roses are. They are my core memories. Roses comprised everything including my pain, my joy, and everything. They made me remember everything because Roses were present before I had lost all my memories.

I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t. 

I just watched the video play. 

I saw that I was bringing a bouquet of roses when suddenly, my mom walked. 

The pain was now intense. I could feel I will faint, but no! I shouldn’t. I’m going to kill who had killed my mom.

Then, on a spur of a moment. I remembered why my mother died. I was so angry with her for telling ill words to my girlfriend that I had given her a bouquet of roses. 

I saw on the video that when I had given the bouquet to my mom…..

I shot her on the head. Then I collapsed unconsciously.

Now, I knew who had killed my mom. With the gun on my left forehead, I pulled the trigger.

March 25, 2021 09:15

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

2 comments

Darya Silman
20:58 Mar 28, 2021

My applause to this story. You are definitely walking on a thin line. I mean, it's super engaging, but at the same time, many would not like blatant violence pouring out of it.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Maraika!!! 😎
20:08 Mar 25, 2021

#StopDownvotingNow Share with ten friends add your name to pention https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/contests/86/submissions/59942/

Reply

Show 0 replies