Come here my son for I must talk to you at my final hours. I have something which I need to get off my chest before I die. And since the hours for that I nearing; I do not feel the fear of being exposed or punished for what I did. This includes an incident for which you will surely despise me; but now, I don’t really care what people think of me.
I was once a lot like what my grandson is now. I was studying graduate level when this incident took place. I was a bright student who always came first in class. All the students looked up to me and I even got the respect from my teachers. I had everything a teenager would want in life; everything but looks. And you may wonder since all the photos you have seen of me in, I am a very handsome chap. I will get to that later. Anyways, like I said, I had everything. I was even earning money as I studied. I worked even though my parents were well off because I wanted to have personal experiences in life.
But this is not about all that. I fancied a girl who studied with me. Ah! And what a girl she was. It’s been all these years and I still remember everything about her. Nikita was her name. I used to call her Niki. She wasn’t the type of girl that boys would be wild after, but for me she was heaven. Everything about her was; how shall I put it? Yes. Intoxicating. To me, her beauty knew no bounds and her eyes grew deeper every time I looked into them. But let me not get carried away here.
She never loved me though. And she despised looking at me. And you may think that this is a normal love story that ends badly; but you’re wrong. Now where was I? Ah yes. Even while she talked, she never looked at me. She used to pretend that she was shy but I knew. I don’t know why I wanted her so much; but I did with all my heart. The feeling was never sexual though. I wanted her to feel what I felt for her.
She did use to talk with me. Very often in fact. But for her own greed. You see, she was a student who gave a damn about studying and I was her willing teacher. I never argued over anything and loved being around her. So, it worked out for the both of us. I was the perfect catch for her, as you may put it. She used to be my partner in projects, presentations and any other group activities. I did everything and she got good grades. My friends always told me she wasn’t worth it. I knew every time that she was using me but I never complained because having her beside me gave me hope. Hope that one day she would look at me and feel what I felt for her.
It was the last year of our graduate’s level and my love for her had grown to a very high extent. I knew she knew. And it hurt that she pretended not to know anything. And every time she used me, my hope declined. Everyday it felt as if she was toying with my mind and everyday it broke my heart. I never told her how I felt because I knew she knew. But then again, I still wanted her to feel what I felt for her. I never went ahead of that because I knew that wanting her was also beyond my limits.
This is the year when my parents died in a car accident. I have told you often that your grandparents died after you but that’s all a big lie. Those who died were never your grandparents. They were the ones who helped me get on with my life after…. But don’t let me get ahead of myself. I am thirsty. Bring me the glass of water and I’ll tell you more.
After my parents’ death I began longing for her although I knew she despised even looking at me. But she did talk to me and why wouldn’t she? I was the one getting her through her college exams. I began asking her to accompany me in the projects and presentations. It was just a way to get her close and she willingly agreed. What other choice did she have?
On one such occasion she came to my home to prepare for a presentation we had. It was one of the last one’s we’d do before we became graduates. And I knew that once we graduated, she’d leave me behind for good. We talked about the presentation like always. And like always, I looked straight into her eyes the whole time. She was still avoiding the look. It was four years already and I felt it was enough. Then I had a sudden urge and I said “look at me.” She laughed it off. It was normal for her since anytime I even hinted the idea that I liked her, she would change the topic.
But then I felt I’d had it. I again said “Look at me.” She giggled, looked at me and turned away. Then she started changing the topic as she always did in situations like this. I’d go along and talk about something else, but not this time. A burst of anger enraged inside me. I felt like I was being controlled by an external force. I took a hammer out of the toolbox that was beside me and I hit her right on the head. She screamed in pain and fell but no-one heard her. You see, when my parents died, they had left to me a big estate which soundproofed the scream. No, she did not die. She was lying helpless on the floor. I looked at the hammer and then at her. A feeling of salvation ran through me.
I went closer to her and felt her pulse. She still had pulse and she was still breathing. Ah! And how I enjoyed every moment of watching her on the floor like that. Why? You ask why? Because I wanted her to feel what I felt that’s why.
I got a knife from the Kitchen. I then started cutting the wound she had on her head and while I did so, I kept telling her “Now you know how much pain I felt each moment you ignored me”. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. All my feelings that lay dormant in me for so long had started coming out. I put my hand inside the head and pulled out a part of her brain. It felt victorious. I started telling her; shouting “This is how you played with my mind, didn’t you?” But she was dead. I saw her lying lifeless on the floor and for all its worth, I didn’t care anymore.
I tore her clothes and cut her chest wide open with the knife. I could see the heart. I could see it still beating. And I felt that it was all that I wanted. I pulled it out and I shouted with great joy “Now I have your heart and it will be mine forever.” I was speechless and just sat there, savoring the moment. But with every beat it reminded me that what she felt for me was still there. That disgust for me. I remember it oh so well. And it was then that I began to feel the same disgust for myself.
I couldn’t stand loathing myself. I stabbed her heart again and again with the knife I had. I enjoyed each and every moment of it and although it may seem inhumane to you, trust me, if you had felt what I had, you would have done the same. I shouted again “This is how you broke my heart.” I began crying and I looked at her. I saw in her eyes, lifelessness.
This is when I realized what I had done. I looked at her lying lifeless in my arms and that is when I began to think rationally. I became worried. I had killed a person. ME. A boy who hadn’t even dared to hit a person in his whole life had in his arms the girl he used to love. DEAD. I started thinking. What if the police found out? W-What if I got caught. I couldn’t just hide her body because her parents knew that she was at my house. For God’s sake I had committed murder. My life would be destroyed. Everything I had worked for and everything my parents had hoped.
I took all the money I had and I ran. I went to the airport and I got on a plane to London. I paid a doctor there who agreed to change my face and not tell anyone about it. My parents had left me a fortune, and I was willing to spend every bit of it to get myself off the hook. I paid a family in London to be my parents, changed my name and got a new passport. I came back home and married your mother. But every time I went close your mother, it reminded me of the girl I once loved and killed. Now I didn’t even have the heart to touch another girl.
Your mother had affairs with other men and I never complained. I just wanted a face in the society and I had one. Your mother, on the other hand, wanted money which she got from me. So, it worked out for the both of us. And that is how you were born. You may not be my own blood but you are my son and I am proud to have a son like you.
And now you know my story. Why? You ask why I had to tell you? It’s all about the truth my son. I believe in god and all that is beyond life. I know what I did was wrong and yet I do not regret it. But I told you all this for a reason. Because you had the right to know. Now I can die peacefully. I can now have salvation and at this time it is all that I seek for.