Smoking, he was waiting for something in the rain. The rain was cold...
It slapped his face with its invisible, icy hand. It made small holes in
his hair and head, and all the cheerful thoughts escaped. He was left with
the gloomy ones, the real ones. But he loved the rain.
He really looked like a chimney everytime he puffed the smoke out. In the darkness, the tip of his cigarette was very bright, from time to time burning with an even redder flame, casting its shadowy light on his face, revealing his sad eyes.
The whole street was silent. A heavy silence that weighed on his soul, making him even more depressed. But he still liked the silence, and still liked the rain. He liked the gloomy thoughts that were hunting him, he liked the weight, he liked being depressed. He wasn't born to be a happy person. He always distinguished between two kinds of people: happy ones and sad ones. He only trusted sad ones. The happy ones love life, and love themselves. The sad ones hate it, and hate themselves. The sad ones are the brave ones, the loyal ones, the compassionate ones. Only sad people can love.
"Oh shut up...", he thought to himself "stop philosophizing. Stop making literature out of it. Concentrate. Concentrate!"
On what? On what he was supposed to do in just a few minutes. "Yeah, you should concentrate", he said out loud. He spoke to himself, sometimes, when he was alone. When lonely, he created a friend out of himself. When with others, he wanted to do the same, but couldn't. With Julia, he didn't need to do that. He could speak to her. Most times she would listen, sometimes she wouldn't. But he could always speak to her, just like sometimes he spoke to himself when he was alone.
"There you go again... Going all... Dramatic..."
Damn it... When will it be over. When will the night be over. When will tomorrow come, when will tomorrow night be over, when will the week be over... when will the month end... When will the year end... When will... When will everything end...
It's always the same, he thought. Tomorrow night will be just the same...
He was finishing the last thought, when he heard a metallic door open. He quickly dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. His right hand reached for his loyal pistol. Yeah... Only two things are always loyal to you: the girl you love and the gun that protects your life. "That was stupid...", he thought. The girl you love could always betray you and love someone else, and the gun could always jam... Oh who cares.
He silently chambered a bullet. Then he placed the pistol back in the holster. No... He took it out of the holster, put it in his pocket. The handle was sticking out. It's easier to grab it like this, he thought. Don't betray me now, gun!
He could now easily hear footsteps. He approached the man who was walking toward him. The man was tall and thin, with a young, handsome face. He was smoking.
Spike approached him. The sun was down, he could barely make out the young man's face, but he definitely saw some sweat on his forehead.
"Yo! You have the time?"
The man jumped. He took a step backwards. He stared at Spike, trying to see him in the darkness.
Realizing that the man was going to run, Spike quickly reached for his pistol. The man dropped his cigarette and tried running away. An ugly shot ripped through the silence. The echo echoed. The man's head jerked forward, blood spurting out of his head, right above the ear. He had a blank expression on his face, as if he was resigning to fate. As if he was intentionally letting Spike kill him. Even in the last moment of life, he was trying to claim himself as the master of his destiny.
Spike carefully placed the gun in the holster, turned back, and strolled away. He was sweating.
"Was the target terminated?" Vicious looked darker than the night.
"Yeah"
"Good. Tomorrow we have another one to liquidate"
"Who's gonna do it?"
"Tomorrow. We'll decide tomorrow"
Spike stood up. He opened the door.
"Spike!"
He turned back. Vicious was now looking like a slimy, cruel, small creature. But he looked strong. He always looked strong. He looked stronger than Spike.
"What?"
"Are you going to Julia's?"
Spike skipped a heartbeat. Nothing in the world ever made him nervous... Well... Almost nothing... But this was too much. He didn't know why he was so scared, or so annoyed. Maybe he couldn't handle hearing such a sacred name being uttered by dirty lips. He didn't answer.
Vicious laughed.
"What's going on with you, Spike? Lately you've been different. She's a nice girl. But she's making you soft"
Spike still didn't answer.
"How is she?"
Silence.
"How is she?"
"She's fine"
"I mean in bed. How is she in bed?"
"Shut up"
"Wow... She really HAS made you soft. Oh well... She's a really nice girl"
The rain was terrible now. He hated it, while walking through it, heading toward Julia's apartment. When he reached her door, it was as if he had reached the door to heaven. Her smiling face greeted him into heaven. Into his heaven. She opened his mouth to say something... But he silenced her with his lips, kissing her warmly. He didn't even shut the door behind him. He kissed her lips, and got to her neck, and kissed her neck, and helped her take off her shirt.
It was 5 AM when she woke up. She couldn't find Spike next to her on the couch, in the living room. She put some clothes on, assuming he had left. She was surprised to see him near the window.
"When this is over, I'm leaving the syndicate"
"You'll be killed"
"I'll let them say I'm dead"
"I'll be waiting at the graveyard. Of course, I'll be alive"
"I... can't come with you"
"Come with me"
"We'll leave here... We'll escape from this world"
"And then what are we going to do?"
"We'll just live a life of freedom somewhere... Just like watching a dream"
She looked at him with those blue eyes. Those... Those sad, deep blue eyes. Those blue eyes. REALLY blue eyes. SO blue... Blue.
He really looked like a chimney everytime he puffed the smoke out. In the darkness, the tip of his cigarette was very bright, from time to time burning with an even redder flame, casting its shadowy light on his face, revealing his sad eyes.
The whole street was silent. A heavy silence that weighed on his soul, making him even more depressed. But he still liked the silence, and still liked the rain. He liked the gloomy thoughts that were hunting him, he liked the weight, he liked being depressed. He wasn't born to be a happy person. He always distinguished between two kinds of people: happy ones and sad ones. He only trusted sad ones. The happy ones love life, and love themselves. The sad ones hate it, and hate themselves. The sad ones are the brave ones, the loyal ones, the compassionate ones. Only sad people can love.
"Oh shut up...", he thought to himself "stop philosophizing. Stop making literature out of it. Concentrate. Concentrate!"
On what? On what he was supposed to do in just a few minutes. "Yeah, you should concentrate", he said out loud. He spoke to himself, sometimes, when he was alone. When lonely, he created a friend out of himself. When with others, he wanted to do the same, but couldn't. With Julia, he didn't need to do that. He could speak to her. Most times she would listen, sometimes she wouldn't. But he could always speak to her, just like sometimes he spoke to himself when he was alone.
"There you go again... Going all... Dramatic..."
Damn it... When will it be over. When will the night be over. When will tomorrow come, when will tomorrow night be over, when will the week be over... when will the month end... When will the year end... When will... When will everything end...
It's always the same, he thought. Tomorrow night will be just the same...
He was finishing the last thought, when he heard a metallic door open. He quickly dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. His right hand reached for his loyal pistol. Yeah... Only two things are always loyal to you: the girl you love and the gun that protects your life. "That was stupid...", he thought. The girl you love could always betray you and love someone else, and the gun could always jam... Oh who cares.
He silently chambered a bullet. Then he placed the pistol back in the holster. No... He took it out of the holster, put it in his pocket. The handle was sticking out. It's easier to grab it like this, he thought. Don't betray me now, gun!
He could now easily hear footsteps. He approached the man who was walking toward him. The man was tall and thin, with a young, handsome face. He was smoking.
Spike approached him. The sun was down, he could barely make out the young man's face, but he definitely saw some sweat on his forehead.
"Yo! You have the time?"
The man jumped. He took a step backwards. He stared at Spike, trying to see him in the darkness.
Realizing that the man was going to run, Spike quickly reached for his pistol. The man dropped his cigarette and tried running away. An ugly shot ripped through the silence. The echo echoed. The man's head jerked forward, blood spurting out of his head, right above the ear. He had a blank expression on his face, as if he was resigning to fate. As if he was intentionally letting Spike kill him. Even in the last moment of life, he was trying to claim himself as the master of his destiny.
Spike carefully placed the gun in the holster, turned back, and strolled away. He was sweating.
"Was the target terminated?" Vicious looked darker than the night.
"Yeah"
"Good. Tomorrow we have another one to liquidate"
"Who's gonna do it?"
"Tomorrow. We'll decide tomorrow"
Spike stood up. He opened the door.
"Spike!"
He turned back. Vicious was now looking like a slimy, cruel, small creature. But he looked strong. He always looked strong. He looked stronger than Spike.
"What?"
"Are you going to Julia's?"
Spike skipped a heartbeat. Nothing in the world ever made him nervous... Well... Almost nothing... But this was too much. He didn't know why he was so scared, or so annoyed. Maybe he couldn't handle hearing such a sacred name being uttered by dirty lips. He didn't answer.
Vicious laughed.
"What's going on with you, Spike? Lately you've been different. She's a nice girl. But she's making you soft"
Spike still didn't answer.
"How is she?"
Silence.
"How is she?"
"She's fine"
"I mean in bed. How is she in bed?"
"Shut up"
"Wow... She really HAS made you soft. Oh well... She's a really nice girl"
The rain was terrible now. He hated it, while walking through it, heading toward Julia's apartment. When he reached her door, it was as if he had reached the door to heaven. Her smiling face greeted him into heaven. Into his heaven. She opened his mouth to say something... But he silenced her with his lips, kissing her warmly. He didn't even shut the door behind him. He kissed her lips, and got to her neck, and kissed her neck, and helped her take off her shirt.
It was 5 AM when she woke up. She couldn't find Spike next to her on the couch, in the living room. She put some clothes on, assuming he had left. She was surprised to see him near the window.
"When this is over, I'm leaving the syndicate"
"You'll be killed"
"I'll let them say I'm dead"
"I'll be waiting at the graveyard. Of course, I'll be alive"
"I... can't come with you"
"Come with me"
"We'll leave here... We'll escape from this world"
"And then what are we going to do?"
"We'll just live a life of freedom somewhere... Just like watching a dream"
She looked at him with those blue eyes. Those... Those sad, deep blue eyes. Those blue eyes. REALLY blue eyes. SO blue... Blue.