Her eyes are still open, however, stagnant, lackluster, lost and worse, empty, without me being able to see myself inside. The truth hurts the body and reaches the soul of those who truly love. Now it's official. Now it's true. Now I give up and I find out, my wife is dead! I place her gently on the bed soaked in blood and not our sweat. I want to not look at this terror, but also, on the other hand, I've never denied her a look so even under this condition, I wouldn't start now. Even because there is no validity in this attitude, for I will not only go, but I will insist on keeping only the features of happiness, joy and pleasure.
"What is that?" Beyond the pitiful scene that my eyes see, beyond the pain, beyond the commotion and feeling, reason enters the scene and the investigative sense begins to bubble. Two holes in the neck on the right side are revealed, but only with two separate lines of oozing blood that don't even reach his neck.
Clearly, most of the blood came out of a larger wound in the neck on the left side. I examine her all over and it's the only wound she has. There's a significant amount of blood on the hand, which proves that she pressed on the wound in hopes of stanching it. However, knowing it or not, she would never be able to do it because the cut was deep and extensive. I see now more closely that it extends down the throat to the chest. The intention, in fact, was to kill her. Now, I understand why there weren't more screams. Besides, I presume, of the indescribable pain. The strength had failed her. She died alone. What a pity. We promised each other that we would be together even in the hour of death and that we wouldn't dare go without each other. I thought we lived, though, the world was never a peaceful place to either live or raise children, in a place where things happened naturally. I think "naturally" because this is no ordinary murder. Besides, the killer stayed here until he actually saw that she was dead, which would be pointless because with a cut like that no one would survive, which then leads me to believe that he stayed here for me see him. Or at least, something of him. Which is strange on the one hand, but also, understandable on the other, for why kill and not find out who did it? Anonymity wouldn't earn him fame. What can't be assumed, but affirmed, that he's a serial killer. And that rules out having a specific reason for her to be the victim this time, even though, we're not important people. We are simple peasants.
Harmless field workers. Unless they wanted our land, but nobody came to make an offer. Which would clarify the sad occurrence, as she would certainly be with me in rejecting the proposal, regardless of the amount offered.
"Wait a second!" Suddenly, even still upset, I remember not only the call in the dream, but also, what happened after I woke up. Had I woken up from that dream? Well, apparently not! I was sleepwalking, so, I woke up far from our house. But what about the feeling I had of being surrounded by something malign? It looked like evil itself. I think this for the simple fact that it was a sensation that ran through my whole body. And also, I have the conviction that it was spiritual. But for now, I'm going to treat this as an earthly matter and not a spiritual one. Not that it's any easier because I don't understand, but it's just... That would be too much for me! Well... So... Rationally thinking, the only clue I have is that cloth black on the outside and red on the inside, which leads me to believe it was a cape. A cape? Who would use this? Unless he had a cloth wrapped around in himself. What kind of dress would that be? If it's a typical dress then it's someone foreign.
I let go of my beloved for a moment and I reach the living room. Obviously, there's no breaking-in, as our house is simple and there are also no valuables to be coveted by thieves. In fact, people without character because you shouldn't put your hands on what doesn't belong to you. I confirm what I already knew. I'm used to smells and this not human being, but a monster, doesn't have any. I think, going a little outside the investigation reasoning, maybe if the doors and windows were locked, with her screams, I would have turned back and arrived in time. Now, that doesn't help anymore. How could I have that nightmare and become a sleepwalker precisely not only on the day, but at the time wherein she would be attacked? To my mind this is inconceivable, but on second thought using sleepwalking as a basis, perhaps I should consider not something about spirituality, but black magic!
"What is that?" I leave the house immediately and I go around it. I reach the window from the outside and I find a white scarf clinging to a nail. Both on the verge of escaping and realizing my arrival, he didn't come back or find time to unhook the scarf because I don't think that he left it on purpose, even based on that thought that he wants to be caught, since the way like the scarf stayed clinging to the nail says it all. I examine it and there is no label, let alone any smell. But can see that it is a chic and classy cloth, from someone who has possessions. It looks like silk to me. Shiny. With embossed details. It could be someone from high society. Maybe not, it is! But what's the point if it's a person without character, humanism. A cruel and cowardly killer.
"Well... It's not a big deal, but... Those two clues are something." The only ones I have and that's where I'm going to start investigating until I find that cursed murderer who disgraced a family. Who ruined the lives of two young people who had just started a life together.
I remove her dress and I find her naked, with her body beauty of a goddess...
...
"Come my love! Come lie down to make love with your beloved! Come!" As soon as I set foot in our room, she was already waiting for me and undressed at the exact moment, so that I could observe her from afar all over! After her speech she lies down and squirms all over demonstrating that she's excited. As usual, she stretches her leg, giving me her beautiful little foot so that I can start "attacking" her. With no time to lose, I kneel and I take hold of her little scented foot and I kiss it gently. I look at her who squirms differently this time, touching her thighs to each other, demonstrating that she can't resist this touch...
...
"What?" No, no, no... It was just a memory! It will plague me as long as there's life in me. In tears, I clean her wounds, as well as, I close her eyes and a deep sadness invades me for knowing that they will never open... That they will never shine... That they will never brighten the environment and the lives of those who around her, and worse, I'll never see myself living in them.
Although I wasn't here at the time of her death, both she and I know that my love was and went with her. I wrap your body all clean, smelling and with the wounds treated in a white cloth and I sprinkle coriander, your favorite aromatic herb...
After some time making a coffin, albeit improvised, I gently place her inside and a thought crosses my mind that must be seriously considered: going with her!
"Everything at its time, Philip. Everything at its time." One day I'll meet you, my eternal wife.
After a while of digging and digging, exhausted, I reach the end of this stage. I place, however, clumsily, the coffin in the pit. I place my hand on it and pay my last respects as a lone tear slipped and driped staining the pale wood. Clouds suddenly turn gray and thunder announces an upcoming storm. A sign, perhaps? My beloved is sad. I put, right here, in this cold and permanent hole, her ring that fits only on my little finger. One day I'll come back here and the weather will be clear, sunny, the sky without clouds... Which will prove that you are happy. I climb the hole. With each shovel of land thrown, a piece of me goes along. When the burial ends...
I fall to the ground.
After a long time, I gather strength from wherever and I continue the horrible, but necessary, work.