A Headache

It's stuck there. It has been there for the last few days. It's like a cluster of something. Anything. It's there. It's tangible but it doesn't have a definitive form yet.

She moved out yesterday. She took the kids with her. All the money in the world and those wily looking lawyers couldn't stop her from taking them away from me.

I haven't worked in a few months. But even then she knew that I wasn't mentally present with them. I was lost in thoughts most of the time. I acted strangely. Maybe too strangely at times. No wonder she started hating me. She once said that she feared me sometimes and the kids feel the same way sometimes. But I wondered how that can be possible. I haven't worked in a while. How can that be?

Now I am all alone. I have this horror of a house echoing with the noise of my empty soul. And this headache has been eating on me for the last few days.

She gave me the ultimate freedom. I have all the loneliness I need to get to work. To start writing again. But I cannot.

That formless cluster I mentioned earlier, it's pitch black. It's a pulsing cloud of utter blackness.

The headache, it seems to have worsen.

The sun seems to go down quickly today. I guess the invitation is quite appealing. "The night welcomes me to my desk."

Walking up the stairs, I can see the last picture of John and Todd she left with me. "How cruel! They were my creations too. Were they not?"

"Ah! The room. She looks happy. Did she always look this happy? " The last time I remember her to be like this was before Katie moved in with me. Do I feel happy too?

The desk in the corner is shrouded in darkness. Everything else. The chair. The sofa. The book shelf. The mirror. The wine box. Everything looks incredibly still and lifeless. Just the way they should be. Or maybe breathlessly waiting for the climax.

Turning the switch near my desk on, the light revolted against the emptiness that I've been breeding for years. It fueled the headache even further. And from there onwards every second is just getting worse.

A hammer hitting a nail. A bat hitting a ball. A drill drilling a hole. A chopper chopping meat. Thick dark meat. Sharp teeth tearing strong and tough flesh.

"Stop. Just stop. I don't know anything anymore. It's a cruel choice. Why? Why do I feel this away? It's been so many years. Why can't I control it? "

The headache is becoming unbearable and I fell on the floor. With a ripping sound and an unfathomable pain, I can feel my skull cracking open. And blood starts to oozing out of those crevices.

The headache, it's slowly subsiding. I can feel it. That black formless cluster, it's taking form. As my blood is dripping onto the floor, I can see it form into letters. Then letters into words. Each word growing and taking shape into horrible monsters. Such unimaginable creatures. One. Two. Three. Ten. Fifteen. Each one of them more beautifully grotesque than the last one. I can feel the pain. I feel joy.
Do I even know? Should I even care?

My headache is slowly but gradually vanishing into a cold and chilling sensation. By now I know I have lost all control over my body. Except my eyes. I can still see. I can see my despicable creations staring back at me. Their collective eyes fixed at me. Blinkless and emotionless.

I remember the last words my wife said to me today, when she cleared out her last few belongings. "I hope you could enjoy the rest of your life with your creations. There will be no more of us to take you away from them." Maybe they listened to her.

Twenty-five. Thirty. As my eye sight is slowly fading out, I can see the last one taking form. This one is different. It doesn't look ugly or hideous. It looks like me!