An Eye for an Eye

I stop, still in shock. Bugs scurry around the water top sending ripples across the surface. Ducks play dunking and quacking without the slightest awareness of being watched by a man capable of such things. Despite the busy animals, insects and sea dwellers, the lake contains a stillness that reminds me of the act I have committed. The lake seems an entity that continues on eternally silently observing the horrible things that men are capable of.

I turn my attention from the mystifying tranquility of the lake to my own shaking hands. They are the hands of one suddenly thrust into a deep penetrating reality. Hands forced into a violent loss of innocence. As I watch them tremble I am overcome with the desire to bring them to the cold dark surface of the water. My fingers slowly penetrate the seemingly solid lake sending a violent shockwave that seems to contaminate the purity of the lake.

I begin to rub my hands together attempting to somehow cleanse them of the horror they have perpetrated, slowly at first wanting to disturb the tranquility of the lake as little as possible. But as the filth won’t seem to go away I rub them together more and more violently losing control. The whole thing flashes before my eyes one frame at time and tears fill my eyes.

Why? Why me? I can’t seem to make sense of it, it all happened so fast. A bitter chuckle rises in my chest as I realize how it all started, going out for something as trivial as a stupid carton of milk.

“Damn it honey, how could you forget the milk? I told you over and over again ‘don’t forget the milk’!”

“I’m sorry okay?! Maybe I’m a little distracted.”

“You’re distracted?! Jesus! How do you think I feel?”

“You think you’re the only one who’s upset? Just because you carried the damn thing for four months doesn’t mean I feel any better than you do!” I suppressed a sob.

She paused. “I’m sorry.” As she began to weep I couldn’t bare to look into those eyes.

“Ill go get the milk.”

“No, forget it it’s late.”

“No, its okay. Be right back.” I grabbed my coat and headed to the door hesitating as my hand reached the doorknob. “Baby?,” My voice broke as she looked up. “I love you.”

She began to sob loudly, fidgeting with the bandage on her thin delicate wrist, as I closed the door behind me tears running down my own cheeks as well. She had come out of it with only a sprained wrist; the doctor said she was luck. Lucky.

I began to laugh savagely, removing my hands from the water, as I realized I still didn’t have the milk.

I left the house in whirl of emotions. I felt angry, sad, but most of all guilty. Even with four months to think about it I still hadn’t felt ready. I suppose somewhere deep down I even wanted this to happen. But now that it was gone I wanted nothing more than to bring it back. Strange, it took losing it to finally realize that I was ready, no we were ready.

All this felt so far away now though. It had been a long night. There was a seven Eleven only about two blocks away, but I needed a minute. The Icy chill of the fresh Colorado air was comforting as I took each breath and then slowly let it out watching the misty cloud form with each exhalation. Passing the Seven Eleven I watched strangers rushing through the night bundled in their heavy winter coats. It was after 11 and yet the mile high city was still scattered with people walking along, some hurrying home after a long day at the office, briefcase dangling lazily at their side. Others meandering along as dogs scrambled in front of them dragging them forward, stopping only to sniff and pee here and there. Homeless people gathered around fires with their fingerless gloves light dancing on their faces. It was comforting seeing so many people. It slightly relieved the painful loneliness I had been unable to shake. As I walked, each step seemed to clear my head just a little more, until I saw him.

Sonofabitch, could it really be him? No fucking way. I believe in God. But sometimes you have those days that really try your faith. This was not one of those days. This was far worse. As I stood staring in disbelief, I thought my God, if you are really there then what the FUCK is this? I am not normally one to curse, not even in my thoughts, but this was going too far. I stood there frozen as my surroundings faded into a blur and all I could see was him. I would recognize him anywhere. His baggy clothes with pants hanging far too low checkered boxers hanging out. He had dirty blond hair, narrow eyes and a punk face that matched his walk. Tears blurred my vision as my hands clenched tightly into fists, knuckles turning white; I felt a distant pinching where my nails dug into my palms.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I heard myself whisper as he drew closer.

Just recognizing me, he stopped and took a step back. “Wow man, look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.”

“An accident?”

“Yea man, me and my buddies were talking, and I was distracted.”

“Distracted?” I was so overwhelmed all I could seem to do was to repeat what he said.

“Come on man the bitch came out of nowhere, and how was I supposed to know she was pregnant?” A smirk crossed his lips, that to me was pure evil. “I bet you didn’t even want the little fucker anyway.”

That was going too far. “What the hell did you just say to me?” I couldn’t control myself any longer. I felt my hands unclench as I took a step toward him.

“Hey take it easy!”

“Take it easy?” I snapped as my steps quickened, heart pounding, breath coming more difficulty with each inhale. My hands contacted his chest pushing him backwards. “Take it easy?” I repeated through clenched teeth. He stumbled backward as I pushed him over and over again. The lights approached so quickly and in that instant I pushed him one last time. I could say it came out of nowhere, or I didn’t see it coming. This was half true. I really hadn’t seen it until the last second. But in that second I made the very deliberate decision to push him again. I wanted him dead. I wanted him to pay for the life he had taken, for the pain he had caused me. The bus hit him hard in the right shoulder his face construed in pain and surprise as it knocked him forward. He hit the ground hard, half rolling half bouncing, savagely landing on his back as the bus ran over his right arm with the back wheels. The bus screeched to a stop and I begun to back away. As I turned to run I couldn’t get the image out of my head. He just lied there his now empty eyes filled with a stillness matched only by a deep dark lake on a cold autumn morning.