Care to Spare a Smoke?

It was a cold night, 10:00 PM to be precise, but this time of night was unlike any other. I had just finished drinking my coffee because I asked my best friend, Damian to meet up later at his apartment. I stuffed a pack of cigarettes in my right pocket and a lighter on the other. I took a gun from my cabinet and hid it on my coat. It’s better to be safe than sorry, right? I smelled like cigarettes but I didn’t care. All that was on my mind was meeting up with him. I got up, locked the door and went on my way. Instead of calling for a taxi, I’m the type of guy who likes to walk to his destination no matter how far. Besides, the city at night is so beautiful. The sky was full of stars, the moon was shining like there wasn’t going to be another tomorrow. There are some people who like to take pictures of places, themselves and even insignificant stuff like food. Take a picture of it if you made the effort to cook it for yourself. Noodles don’t count.

Anyway, as I was walking away from my house, I saw a couple roaming around. The two looked like newlyweds. I was envious. Why do they have to be happy? I’m pretty sure they were looking for a place to get “busy”. Why should I care? I believe that people should do what they want to do unless they cause harm or be annoying to anyone. It’s none of my business. On the next block, I saw an old woman standing on a corner of a building. She must be waiting for a cab. Ah yes, waiting. I still remember the time when I was waiting for miracles to happen. Nothing came. Waiting gives you hope for something that never existed. I found out the hard way. I’m a little close to Damian’s apartment and I heard a woman’s scream. I took a glimpse, hoping to locate the scream and I did. I didn’t do anything though. It was just some hooligan trying to steal that woman’s purse. I didn’t care. Why should I? I’m no better than them. I’m no better than anyone. I used to look at the world in a positive light. Boy oh boy, was I wrong. No matter how hard you try to live an honest life, you can’t. It’s not life that makes life hard, it’s the people. The people make it a living hell.

I’m sure a lot will ask, “Why didn’t you help her?” I’ll calmly reply with, “Why didn’t you?” You’ll probably slam a table or something and say, “I would if I was there!” Of course, I can’t let that pass, “Let’s say you were God, would you help her?” You’ll arrogantly reply with, “Yes I would!” For the finishing statement, “Then why didn’t God help her?” As I slowly walk away from that interesting conversation, you’ll shout out, “That’s because everything happens for a reason!” Yeah, because anything good that happens is because you were blessed by some heavenly being, while experiencing horrible events will make you assume that He “works in mysterious ways.” I’m living proof that his so-called “mysterious ways” don’t always go His way. I finally arrived while the scream of the woman slowly faded and got swallowed up by the darkness. I’m a little surprised because I saw that the light around me slowly dimmed. Maybe some sort of power problem or some shit like that? I don’t know. I never really paid attention to class in college.

I walked up the stairs, passing by other rooms, while the darkness followed me. I didn’t give a damn because I had bigger problems to deal with. Actually, if the darkness was following, then I’d let it because what I’m about to fix will make even the dark look like a bag of sunshine and rainbows. I’m finally at his door. The number of his door was numbered 23. How convenient, I thought. Was God playing tricks on me or something?
I knocked on his door 3 times and I twisted the handle. It was unlocked. I opened the door and I saw him smoking his last cigarette. His ash tray was full of burnt cigarettes. He looked at me and smiled. His hair was short and you could see there were some ashes on it. His face looks like he hasn’t slept for weeks. He obviously didn’t take a bath for a long time because from the door where I’m standing, I can already smell the stench. I asked, “Can we talk?” He replied with, “Yeah. Here, take a seat.” He grabbed the nearest chair to his right and handed it over to me. I didn’t want to sit beside him because he smelled pretty awful. The smoke in the room wasn’t helping either.

“Before we do anything out of the ordinary,” He said, “Care to spare a smoke?” I knew he’d ask for that. I was fully prepared. I grabbed the packet of cigarettes from my right pocket &and the lighter on the left. I gave it to him but I also took a cigarette of my own. “So,” I said, “Where to begin?” “Hmm…” He put his hand on his chin like he was imitating The Thinker. “How about the time we first met?” he said.

“Oh yeah, that’s a good one.” I said.

“Yeah, you looked pretty nervous.”

“Well, you did look like some homeless guy.”

“Hey, I was wearing my normal clothes.”

“You redefined the word ‘normal’ you know.”

“Well, why were you looking nervous? My mind is a little foggy, and it’s not because of the smoke in this room.”

“I just had another fight with the Mrs., same story, and same thing. Nothing new to say. It’s the typical fights of a married couple.”

I lit my cig and so did he.

“So that’s why you came out of your place, holding a pack of cigarettes.”

“Yeah. I just need something to smoke the stress away. Then you came up to me asking for a cig.”

I puffed my cig. The smoke filled the atmosphere. The thing that was quite creepy was that the smoke didn’t evaporate quickly. It’s was just slowly roaming around the room like it wants to listen to what our story was.

“Well, you can’t finish a whole packet yourself now, can you?”

“Yes. What do you expect from a newbie?”

He puffed his.

“I thought you were already smoker?”

“Nope. Marrying her is the reason why I started to smoke.”

“How long were you two married?”

“2 years, I think.”

When I said that, there was a minute of silence. That minute felt like an hour or so. I didn’t mind. I love quiet evenings.

“Sorry.” He said.

“I know.”

“Do you mind if I tell you my story?”

“That’s why I’m here.” I said.

“It’s going to be a long night.”

“Don’t worry; we got cigs that can make it through the night, unless you decide to go for two at once.”

“Here it goes then. After I asked for a cig from you, I knew you would become my best friend.”

I was looking at the ash tray instead of him.

“You nervously said that you didn’t have any money. I said that I just wanted a cig from you. Then we just stood outside your house. We smoked the night away. I asked what you name was, I gave you mine.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to ask. Why were you looking for a cigarette?” I asked.

“My fiancé just passed away that night and I was an emotional wreck. I didn’t know what to do. It was also late that night. No parents, no friends, I had no one to go to. No stores were open, and if there was, they didn’t have a pack of cigarettes. I was desperate for some. It’s like someone was playing tricks on me. The timing could never have been right”

“I know what you mean.” I said.

“Anyway, thanks to you, I managed to remain sane. Thanks for being there. After meeting you, my life changed. I finally had hope. I almost met someone.”

“Oh, do tell.” I said.

“Well, this girl, Mary, she’s the one, bro. She’s the one. Short hair, shoulder length. She’s almost the same height as my shoulder. She’s cute. She looks like a cutie like the girls you see in anime. She also has this personality that closely resemble a girl from, yes, anime that I recently watched.”

“ToraDora?”

“Yes! That’s the anime! Taiga, was it?”

“Yeah. I love that anime.”

“I love the characters! It’s really cute and I can relate to it a lot!”

“Uh, don’t you think we’re getting off topic?” I said.

“Oh right, right. Sorry about that. Anyway, we met a couple of times. We had a couple a drinks in some pub. It went on for nights.”

“Sounds like a nice girl.”

“She was. After dating a couple of times, I asked her to marry me.”

“Did she turn you down?”

“Nope. She said she loved me too but was already married.”

“What the fuck!? How the hell do you not know that she was already married?”

“Well, I never really asked her if she was married or anything. All we knew was that we were both crazily in love.”

“That has ‘Damian’s Thing’ written all over it.”

“Yeah I know. Here’s something funny too. I never knew her full name. She was quite secretive.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’d marry some stranger because the moments were just perfect?”

“That’s just me being me.”

“So what did you do?”

“She said that she was planning to divorce his husband.” He said.

We already finished about half of the pack of cigarettes. The story was getting interesting.

I lit my cig and he lit his.

“So the plan was she was going to divorce her husband and I was going to wait for her here but she never came.”

“That sucks.” I said.

“Here I am, still waiting for her.”

We finished our cigarettes. The smoke still hasn’t disappeared. It was looking at us. The smoke from my cigarette looked at me, judging me.

“Well, I don’t think she’ll be coming.” I said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, you know?

“Yeah.”

“Then you know what’s coming, right?”

I pulled the gun out of my coat and aimed for his head.

“Before that, care to spare one last smoke?”

“I’m all out.”

“I see.”

“It’s been nice meeting you.”

“Yeah.”

I pulled the trigger and a deafening sound was heard through the night. I heard footsteps coming up. I just sat down on his couch, beside him. I took another pack of cigarettes out of my coat and lit one. I puffed one and the smoke slowly formed to a faint face of Mary, my wife for two years. The girl that promised me to be hers and her to be mine.

When I found out about her going out late at night, I knew she was going with Damian. I didn’t mind. He was my best friend. My bro. The guy who’d always be there for me. I never had the time to surprise Damian that his new friend was his best friend’s wife. I trusted them both. Mary never told Damian that I was her husband because she was already in love with him and by knowing that, it would ruin our marriage and destroy our friendship. I thought this would happen but I never thought that it would make Mary want to divorce me to be with him.

I found out she was pregnant but the baby wasn’t mine. I know it wasn’t because we hardly did it for a long time. I never had the time because I was always going home late and whenever I’m early, she’d be out with Damian.

For a long time I kept my cool, but when she showed me the divorce papers, I snapped. I took my gun and shot her before I made my coffee. I just left her body at my place. I didn’t move it or anything. I just left it as it is. I’m pretty sure my neighbors heard that and have already called the cops. I’m still wondering why the cops haven’t showed up.
I’m still wondering why Damian knew what I’m about to do. Maybe the neighbors called him instead of the cops. Maybe they knew that Mary and Damian were going out while they kept their mouth shut. Maybe they saw me as the offender instead of the victim. Life does suck because of people. No matter what you do, good or bad, you’ll always be judged not by God, but by His lowly creations called ‘Man.’

The door opened and the landlady saw Damian body, his face covered in blood while I was sitting in his couch, smoking. I did nothing. She screamed and ran down to her room and called the cops. I’m here, waiting for what will happen. It doesn’t matter where I go now. I have nowhere to go, no one to go to and no place to go home to. I was just sitting here, waiting.

The cops finally arrived, pointed a gun at me and shouted, “Freeze!”

I was already frozen from what I’ve done. I just blacked out. When I woke up, I felt nothing. I was in some cell, I don’t care. I have inmates who looked dead like me. Their eyes were grey. No hope, no future. I was suddenly called by a cop saying that a priest wanted me to answer a few questions. What would a priest want with me? It’s probably something like “accept God as your savior and you’ll be saved” or something.

That’s probably it. As I was being escorted by two cops, chains on both my hands and feet, I didn’t feel anything. Ah, walking really does bring me back to my senses, at least, for a bit anyway. I sat down with the priest.

“My son,” said the priest, “Can you please tell me what happened?”

I looked at him and said, “Before that, care to spare a smoke?”