The Darkdoors Part 3

Rains are symbolic of happiness. At least to me till now they were. They symbolized happiness to me until it started raining blood. Yes, people have all kinds of dreams, ranging from happy to sad to depressed, but gore, I wasn’t expecting it and it’s an unwelcome surprise.

bloodrain

I ran inside the cave, I didn’t really fancy blood rains. But the man sitting in my bedroom wouldn’t let me be in peace in the cave too. The cave had blood too by now. It seemed to me as it would be flooded by blood in no less than a few minutes. I had to escape somehow. Damn this man’s dream and his struggle with them. I agreed to help the man not to get scared to death myself.

Looking for a way out, I decided to walk in the direction from where the blood was flowing in. “It’s just a dream, I won’t die” I said to myself. There’s always a way out of these dreams, maybe this dream had a gore one. I tried walking as fast as I could and without looking at my feet, unlike when I had the walked on the beach cemetery. With my fingers holding my nose, I finally reach a corner which is yet to be surrendered to the blood maniac’s dream. The corner is dry, yet very pointy. But then it’s a dry corner, would suffice for a while.

The moment I adjust my body’s posture according to the pointy ends of the cave wall, I hear certain screams, and they are getting louder and louder. What is it with this man!! First he wants corpses on a beach, then he makes me acquainted to a sweet little boy and as soon as I get used to his presence, he makes him vanish. As if that wasn’t enough, he floods my only hideout with blood. He is just not comfortable with other people’s comfort and he loves gore and shouting women.

He just wants me on the move. I move forward in the direction from where the screams are coming from and they’re getting nastier as I get closer.

“You are one shitty child” it’s a woman’s voice. A woman who has a manly voice, and it’s too shrill, too sharp to even bear for a second more.

“But mother I just can’t, I’m afraid to even..” The woman cuts the boy off. She has that authoritative voice that I’ve always hated. My kindergarten teacher had that sort of voice, but she’s even worse than her.

“But you have to, you will have to. Do you want our shop to shut down? Do you want us sitting on the roads, you little schlep?” I have gotten too near to bear this woman’s voice for even a moment now. I lean in, and see a butcher shop three steps away from me. I decide against walking towards it. But then maybe that woman is the reason that the man sitting in my room is having such blood infested dreams. I will have walk up to the shop, whether I like it or not, whether it ends up well or not.

As I get near enough to see clearly what’s going on inside, I crane my neck inside the window and find a blond boy facing his back towards me sitting in a puddle of blood. More blood!! God save me please! I swear the man’s gonna have his own blood puddle the moment I get back. I move inside a bit more, making sure sure that the boy doesn’t know I am watching him. As I go nearer, I hear sobs. They aren’t of the loud sorts, as if he doesn’t want anyone to hear him sobbing.

“You’re not supposed to be here, if my mother finds out, she’s not gonna be so happy” so he knows I am here. Better if I go and have a look at the boy, maybe I can calm him a little, even if I have to sit in the blood puddle.

When I face him, he’s the same boy that left me. Only that he looks a bit older, maybe he’s eleven now. The same blue eyes, the same blond hair, but his eyes aren’t the same the last time I was with him. They are sad, full with tears that will break lose any moment now.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“Saw your reflection in the puddle” He says wiping his tears of his reddened cheeks.

“What’s the matter boy?”

“I don’t have all day for a lazy ass like yourself, I want two hens butchered in an hour. Get used to it lazy schlep” The woman, no doubt loves shouting.

“Why is this woman shouting at the top of her voice”

“That’s my mother and the owner of this butcher shop” He’s hiccuping very badly.

“I don’t want an introduction for that lady, your mother or not, she is SO LOUD” I speak in such an animated way that he can’t help and starts laughing between his tears. He is so better when he laughing and I like his grown up version, but not as much as the blond four year old one.

“So you tell me now, why is she shouting and why are you sitting in a puddle of blood?” He points towards a cage in the corner that has three hens and shows me the butcher knife lying beside him, all rusted and covered in blood.

“My mother wants me to butcher those hens, to help run the shop she owns, to help us repay the debts our drunk father has taken to drink himself to oblivion. She doesn’t care if I can’t do it, if I am too scared and it makes me nauseous to even see a human’s finger bleeding, let alone butchering a living hen. She wants our shop to be the best butcher shop in town.” And he’s sobbing harder now. I can’t see the boy this way.

And now I understand why have I been seeing blood all along.