Page 96 of Burdens
“That’s what I t—” His sentence died in a muted breath when I swiftly steadied the gun in my hand and pulled the trigger, shattering the last shackle that tethered me to him, keeping me from moving forward.
The bullet had ripped through the air and had lodged itself in between his eyes, the same way he’d done it so many times before to his other victims.
And this time, I’d done it to him.
I stood frozen in the aftermath of what had just happened. WhatI’djust done.
A humorless laugh fell from my lips. “I killed him,” I muttered.
The weight of the realization washed over me and suddenly, everything around me seemed to become muted. The space around me seemed so eerily quiet that I could almost make out the faint whispers of my own heartbeat, its thunderous drumming suffocating my hearing.
The air felt thick and oppressive, making it difficult to draw a breath, my lungs struggling against the force of what had just transpired.
My father was dead.
As I watched his lifeless eyes stare back at me, a jagged wound of torn and shredded tissues decorating the space between them, I waited for the waves of guilt or remorse to consume me.
But instead, I was met with an unexpected sense of relief.
I swallowed the unpredicted sob that wracked my chest, but I couldn’t stop the tears that followed from streaming down my face. I couldn’t contain them no matter how much I tried.
I couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason for them, but it strangely felt…
Good, almost…liberating.
A cloak still veiled me from my surroundings, but I felt the gentle touch of fingers intertwining with mine, and a familiar warmth pressing against my front as it guided me away from wherever I was.
A hand tenderly brushed my hair back in a soothing motion before it skated down the curve of my face, the pad of a thumb brushing away at tracks falling down my cheeks.
A voice called out my name a few times before I looked down to see the most beautiful shade of green. Love and reassurance transpired within her eyes as she gently grasped the back of my head, guiding it to rest upon her shoulder.
It was as if she was showing that it was okay to let it out, to feel the way I felt with no shame or inhibition.
The moment my forehead met her skin, I conceded to the floor of emotions that I’d let trapped inside for far too long.
My senses resharpened and the room came back to life. My tears flowed freely now, each one carrying with it a weight that had burdened me for far too long.
I’d thought I’d done the work, that I’d been okay, but perhaps I still had been lying to myself all these years like I’d done so expertly for so long.
Amalia didn’t say a word as she held me close, silently offering me solace. She still held my hand, her other one drawing back and forth on my back.
My emotions eventually subsided and my breathing steadied. I lifted my head from her shoulder, meeting her gaze.
She gave me a small smile and mouthed, “It’s okay. I love you.”
I opened my mouth to tell her the same when a sudden gunshot rang in the air. In an instant, she let go of me, instinctively reaching for her gun, while I swiftly drew mine up and aimed it toward the source of the sound.
My eyes widened when I found Jamal standing above my father. Tendrils of smoke billowed from the barrel of his gun, dancing into the air.
He glanced up. “Just making sure he’s really gone,” he explained, with a nonchalant shrug as he casually tucked his gun into the back waistband of his pants.
“You’re sick,” Nassim chimed in. “But I like your style. Wish I would’ve thought of it first.”
A laugh unexpectedly tore out of my chest, watching me off guard. I brought a hand up, clearing my throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh, but…” I began, but it was cut by another burst of laughter.
To my surprise, Jamal joined in, his laughter mingling with mine at how ridiculous the situation was. It was probably quite inappropriate to laugh as my father’s corpse lay a few feet away from me.
Our laughter eventually faded into a comfortable silence, except for the occasional dripping of water that had plagued my childhood. The sound used to fill me with dread, but now it felt insignificant.
