Rats and Leeches
I am not much of a writer, I am not even an artist, people think I am, I feel I am just a whore. It’s been 2 weeks since the lockdown. I am stuck in this massive house which my friend left on me with two people, not people, two noises actually. One of them is my own brother, I am very affectionate of him but then loving a sibling is like loving a rock, you live with a rock for 15 years, you will love the rock as well, that is how people fall in love with houses, rooms, beds, clothes, pets, stupid dogs for god’s sake. He does the utensils and makes use of my yoga mat which was nothing but like a carpet to me, a cheap carpet.
Other noise would be Maamu, Maamu is my cousin sister’s childhood friend. Who did not get stuck here because of the lockdown. She has always been here. All the fucking time. Wearing your clothes, eating your food, lying on your bed, sucking up your wifi, smoking your cigarettes, drinking your alcohol, reading your books, eating up all your fapp time. She is like an indian father’s advice, it never fucking ends.
I was not particularly enjoying this lockdown, I am an outgoing person, I don’t like socializing that often, I just happen to like bars, bars are the best place in the world. They are so point to point. Nothing in a bar is not required. They even got TV for loners. They are so much better than a person. No fancy drama, no extra conversation and you can smoke in their face.
All the smell of smoke reminded of a bar, ohh I wish I had a cigarette right now, fucking virus!
Maamu smoked like a machine, although she made this ugly fucking face while blowing off smoke. She was anyway ugly, like a ugly duckling with stoner eyes. There were 2 packets of sanitary pads on the table, I thought I could use them to wipe out all the blood, that seems to be their purpose. But I stuck to old school water in a bucket with what Indians call a pocha.
I have been planning to do this for a few days now. She was annoying the fuck out of me. She was not disturbing me or anything but her presence disgusted me. So I could not stop myself when she screamed at me for knocking on the door too loudly. Imagine that! A leech screaming on me in my own fucking house. I made sure it was quick, just three stabs in the chest and done. But what of all this blood now. I have to wipe it off before my brother finishes his evening exercise. He would come out for sure to drink water!
I never actually planned how to hide the body, i had some ideas that i’ve seen in the movies, read in the books. You know same old same old. I always fell asleep when I got to the planning part. Weird thing, sleep. Makes you think so much and then puts you off. I remember reciting a poem in my sleep today morning, something about a jail but then I forgot. see , not much of a writer.
Also, this one is a huge body. Mammu was small and tiny. Just like her thoughts, her aims, her hopes, her face but oh boy ,her ego. That was filled to the brim just like this glass of whisky in my hand right now. I usually like my drinks a lil more diluted. I get drunk easily, of course my favorite place is a bar. I had asked for a bottle of water three days ago, now is not the right time. I got scared. But I did not kill him. Tilli did, my younger brother. He said, we should not leave any witness or evidence or all that crap. He was quite huge for a delivery boy. But he had polio in his one leg. Easy target, could not run. You learn so much from tv you have no idea. Scrap these philosophy and psychology books. Crime shows are the real deal.
After gulping the whisky I thought about the rat, who has been living in the closet for a month now. He would chew up my drawings. While I am at it maybe i should kill that too. It’s a him, the way it eats, so mannerless, has to be a man.
So I keep my brother’s eyeball out there for him as a bait. I’ve seen crows eating eyeballs of fishes on discovery channel, I am telling you TV is the shizz. I have not eaten in days and this whisky was making my head real heavy. I really wish I had a smoke right now, I try to shift the sofa and I slip, head hits the central table. There is blood. I am quite unconscious, the poem comes back to me, I am in jail, something something. I am just about to make a rhyme when suddenly there is a pinch on my ear. I wake up but i cannot move my arms or my legs, i’ve lost too much blood, it’s the end i can feel it. The rat is chewing my ear, and guess what he got pals too. At Least someone gets dinner. They have meals for days now. You know, we were at this bar, and there is this friend Abe. he comes up with weird theories with no ground work, i like these kind of people. Logic is the murder of art, but i am no artist remember. Anyway he said imagine an OCD person having sex. Great story starter, right! But then i zoned out on the rest of the part and overheard this stupid regular man sitting on the next table reading his forwarded text messages loudly to his friend. He said after the virus everyone will die, but the rats. And then he laughed. Who sends these stupid messages man?
