The Heart of a Madman (HORROR STORIES)

LOVE

Why do I feel bad? He murmured as he stood at the very edge of a high cliff, overlooking the golden stars and the night blue sea. The waves rampaging wildly and the storm raging, striking lightning in the near distance as the sound of a strident thunder can be heard. Wind blowing so hard, his clothes clung to his side and his hair swept showing his begging but questioning face as he looked unto the forthcoming rain.

'Why' he repeated once again. 'What have I done to deserve this?' he weakly added.

He can still feel the warmth of her touch as she hugged him tightly under the starry sky. He can still smell the sweet aroma of her perfume, diffusing over to his nostrils, all to his content. The locks of her auburn hair and its scent made him more solemn, for she was gone.

He can still remember their first date, how he embarrassingly asked her to dinner and how she calmly accepted. Their first kiss, on which he dearly holds unto, feeling her hot lips and how his heart beated rapidly at that instance.

The loud horn of her car as she dropped by their house, looking smug and ready for another night of fun.

They both graduated college with flying colors, had comfortable jobs and continued their love, feeling successful as another milestone has been achieved. They felt nothing could stop them, nothing could ever seperate them apart, that even if they were to be forced, they would try all the unlimited possible ways to solve and find the righful solution.

Love really is something, he thought. Love can make you powerful. Like a fit key into its appropriate lock, can make you realize and unlock the secrets of your life that you have never known yourself. He felt he was like the happiest man of his century and nothing can change that as long he is with his lover.

They had a child named Marielle. Marielle was a cute little chubby kid who knows nothing still but to suck on her tiny fingers and cry. They had hard times of course, dealing with the acrid and nonstop sobbing and crying. But it was part of the challenge that was dared by life.

Her first birthday was still vividly imprinted on his mind. The cordial smile that his child has given him, matched that of her mother. He invited many of their neighbors and close relatives to celebrate her first year of existence. A funny clown mascot was even hired which she greatly adored and appreciated. He gave her many gifts, one of them was a doll. It was a simple doll, only costs a small amount. But the sentimental value and importance given to it cannot be matched by any materialistic treasure to her.

She played with the doll with her friends, it went with her wherever she goes. Up until bedtime, it was her comfort and pillow, neatly lying on the bed.

But peace didn't last long. She was diagnosed with Cancer just after her seventh birthday. They were alerted and alarmed. His wife from that day, never stopped crying.

On her eighth birthday, she sat on the hospital bed. Almost bald with only a few strands of hair. She was feeble, catching her breathe for every little effort of movement. She weakly asked why she couldn't play with her friends anymore and why no one visited her. She felt like she was a monster. Every parent couldn't stand these types of incquiries. The scene broke his heart.

Her condition worsened. His wife was at a state of depression. The two of his most loved people in this world is suffering and he couldn't do anything about it. That was the worst thing.

Her wife said she needed some space, to cool off, to get over. That was when things started to fall for him. From that day forward, his wife got cold. And on one day, she decided to break it off between them. It was too heartbreaking for her to see his husband, only reminding her of the tragic demise of their daughter.

He could reminisce, his daughter's face, gently holding her doll, her precious little doll. Holding it while she whispered morosely, 'I love you' to his ears and made him burst into tears. Crying like a baby while Marielle for the last time, clasping her doll until her last breath. The broken family was devastated and was led to its destruction.

He was angry, but at the same time wondering why did this happen to them? Did they ever do anything wrong? They were a perfect family, but why?

The seperation made him even more livid. It was like his whole world just crumbled before him. He lost his will to live. No daughter, and no wife. No one to take care, and no one to love.

One morning, he passed by a restaurant. It was a bakeshop. The attracting smell of bread and coffee worked him to turn his to its direction. But what he saw was never expected. His wife, kissing another man. Holding hands affectionately. He just couldn't bear to see the scene. It broke his broken heart even more.

He met with his wife that evening. She couldn't look at his face. They were at their old house. A collection of memories. Facing her, what he felt was not sadness, but anger. It was so easy for her to move on while he was silently dying inside.

Her pretentious pitiful face was of no effect. That was when he decided.

'What is that you're holding?' she asked curiously while holding her hand nervously.

He was holding his little surprise at his back. He smiled sweetly. He could still reimagine her shocked face as he impaled the knife at her chest. But it wasn't enough. He cut off her head, arms, legs, and put them in a container. It brought him happiness. It brought him content, seeing his wife like that.

Yes, he murdered her! It now started to rain. Wetting his hair and whole body, giving chilling shivers that he could no more feel. He was numb. Focused only on the past. He was on the brink of insanity. Or maybe already insane, a lunatic.

'Why do I feel bad?' he once again asked, this time a tear fell down his wet cheeks. Ready to accept his grave quietus, he looked down and fell in to the turbulent body of water.