Perfume

Under the accusations presented to this tribunal, the defendant is found guilty of kidnapping, rape and qualified murder of the minor Melanie Anne Sanders. Furthermore, this tribunal sentences the defendant to twenty five years of imprisonment, with no caution or amnesty. The defendant is also decreed of community service under the state surveillance for the rest of his days.

The sound of the cell door closing had been deafening, the metal shining in the mild darkness had been almost blind-full, but the numbness that came with the aftermath was what he felt the most: the feeling of loss, the certainty that the end, the endlessly painful end, was coming and he felt like, deep down, it was all untouchable now, it was all so far from reach, so painfully far he knew he would never be able to touch it again.

And it all became surreal; dead as if he had died himself, and in the end he knew it was true. He could almost see it, the decaying corpse of his happiness rooting away with no possible reach, no possibility of a last smile, no possibility of a last breath. And the mix of dead emotions swirling inside his numb heart was so stupidly different, as if he was entering a parallel world, a world empty of sadness and pain and love and feelings. A world empty of life, just like his heart. And he remembered those days, when his heart had been a full world, with laughs and smiles and love, and just the thought of the past was enough to break his heart. A little bit more, a little bit hard.

Tiny pieces of crimson love tinted his vision, wires of shining diamonds circling his thoughts and he could only think of how painfully numb it was, how painfully numb he had become.

Seagulls flying high above his head woke him up to reality, startling him for a little, but never enough to make him scared. The salty, revolting water broke the shore with a soft thud, mixing with his sand-covered feet in a shivering dance of hard cold liquid, and the scent of the ocean was spreading through the desert beach as the timid morning rays shone softly behind the city, lighting the dust grains with hypnotic shades of golden that seemed almost capable of blinding him through his shades.

He felt tired, tired as if he hadn’t slept for days. Granted, it had been six years since he last slept through the night, since he last ate willingly, since he last truly lived. But somehow this day felt different, abnormally sad, and he would swear it felt like the first day, as if it was all happening all over again.

Twelve years, he thought, his baby would be twelve years that day. And just the thought of his sweet baby girl was enough to crush his heart, chew it mercilessly and ruin it to pieces; it was enough to make him cry. And it didn’t matter anymore how strong he was suppose to be, he couldn’t care if he was too manly to cry, if crying was being stupidly weak.

He was weak, oh so weak. He has been weak for so long, not able to move on, never able to even think of forget. He couldn’t forget, not his little girl, not his sweet angel that had been taken from him, way too early, way too brutally. He couldn’t fathom the loss of his child, not even after six years, six fucking years. Not even after a life time, he thought. Not even then he would let his daughter go. How could he? How could he just… let her go? Let her disappear, vanish, melt and slip through his fingers like he let happen once before?

Daddy…

And the tug in his heart was so strong it seemed like he was breaking apart, like his skin was being ripped and wounded and the crimson fluid was already running out, tinting the quiet beach with deep colors of sadness, with deep colors of death.

His vision was blurred by the silent tears that insisted to fall and stain his tanned cheeks like salty reminders of the pain, the hurt, the suffering he had been through. And the beating of his shattered heart kept reminding him of how much he missed those days. How much he missed… her.

Daddy.

Sometimes he almost felt it, he could swear. Sometimes, a few times, he could see her before him, that happy smile back in place, and the urge to hold her was always so strong he would die a bit more, as if he still had life inside…. As if he was still alive.

Daddy!

He closed his eyes. He could already see the outline of her little silhouette, her sandy colored hair moving softly along the breeze and those sweet hazel eyes of hers looking intently at him, questioning why, ‘why’, why had it all happened? Why would it all end?

”Daddy?” Her voice fell sweetly upon tired ears, her honey-covered tone filling the air as if she was the soft ‘tling tling’ of a bell, only softer and prettier and perfect. His Mel, he thought as the salty tears cascaded down his face, molding his strong features mercilessly, making him feel nothing less than utterly pathetic. ”Daddy, what’s wrong?”

He looked up, hazel eyes locking with hazel eyes, and the sobs he had been holding for so long finally broke free, making him feel more human than he wanted, less broken than he felt. “I miss you so much, baby.” He cried. And he didn’t know if she heard him, if she could possibly do, but just saying those words made her absence so much more real he felt like he could cave a blade inside his chest, he felt like he could finally end it all.

He missed her, so much it physically hurt. He would’ve done everything to have her back, he would’ve trade his life for hers, he would’ve killed in the blink of an eye if some way, somehow he could have his little girl back. But he knew, all too well, that she would never be back. And knowing it was his fault was killing him harder every time. If only he could’ve stopped it. If only it wasn’t too late…

“Matt?” He didn’t look up at the mention of his name, not even if it was her voice calling for him. Not even then. “Matt, please, come inside.” She pleaded, her presence vibrating like electricity beside him, letting him feel the scent of her perfume, a mixture of sweet and exotic and human that always held him before, captive in the scent that he had craved for so long.

But now he was numb. Now, he couldn’t feel the perfume, not even the sweetest, not even the strongest. Now, he could only feel numb, as if he wasn’t feeling at all. He didn’t want her. No, not anymore. He only wanted his baby, but she had been taken away, letting him to wonder where she went, whether he would see her again. Whether she would remember him, her father, her daddy. But for now… now he didn’t care.

“Matt, honey. Please talk to me.” She pleaded. “Please. Don’t let me do this on my own.”

“Go away, Sarah.” His voice felt like acid as it traveled past his throat, vocal chords vibrating painfully against his flesh as he, for once, let himself react to something other than the numbness.

“I can’t do that.” She cried.

“Yes you can. Leave.” And he didn’t even have the strength to scream. He felt drained of any energy, completely empty, and not even now he could find the will to make her move. But he didn’t want her. Now he never did.

He could feel her body moving. His closed eyes could almost distinguish her delicate movements as she straddled him, thighs softly colliding with thighs, chests flushed against each other, lips melting together. But he still couldn’t feel her.

He felt her perfume before her lips, but it lasted only a second before it all vanished away. He could feel his body beginning to respond as lips moved together and tongues laced in a dance of spit and mess and nothing resembling what he could remember. His strong hand travelled up her body, reaching her neck and gripping the hairs on the nape of head, tugging hard with no care for the pain.

He could feel his wild side taking over, primal instincts guiding his body to grind against hers, to claim her body and have his way with her, to simply give in to temptation and just get lost in the blissful blindness of feeling less human, of being numb.

Teeth clasped together as they kissed, physical passion controlling their actions, molding them like lost, lifeless puppets. Making them forget.

But the memory of his child hit him once again and he stopped. His body froze as he pushed his instincts aside, as he thought, I don’t want her. And it all came crashing down, falling with the reality he had hold on for so long.

The silence was louder than the dry sound of skin colliding with skin. His hand felt like it was being set on fire as he stared at the woman that now lied still on the sand, the mark of his hand printed on her skin.

He was shaking. His body felt like a hurricane itself and, if he wasn’t sure he was sitting on firm ground, he would swear he was falling in the vastness of the sea.

“Go away, Sarah.”

“Matt, I-“

“I said leave!” He screamed, angry hazel eyes locking with soft green ones, and again he felt himself non-human. He felt like he was turning himself into a beast. Perhaps, he thought, he already was the beast itself.

He ignored her pleading eyes as she stood up, shaky hands brushing the sand off her clothes as she finally prepared to leave. “Don’t make me go, Matt.” She pleaded yet again, but he didn’t want her. Not anymore.

She let her head fall. He knew he was crushing her. Deep down, he knew he wasn’t suffering alone. But it hurt so much, so much, he couldn’t think about her. Only about his little girl.

And then she left, no goodbye. Suddenly she was gone.

And he cried. He didn’t want her, but he cried as if he still did, as if life had never changed. But he didn’t want her.

I’m sorry.