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–Where is he? –said the young doctor with that impetuous tone in his voice. The tone they use when they still actually care. – Who? The lunatic that killed the girl? Dagger Hart… Creepy name, uh? –answered the safeguard. –Is that his real name? –questioned doctor Stevens. –No, his name is Peter, but everyone has called him Dagger since he was a little kid… He’s in room 13B –replied the safeguard– be careful, you never know what to expect from those psychos. First you smile at them. Then they smile back, and the next thing you know they loose their straightjackets, and you have your insides out… –I’ll keep that in mind– said the young doctor with an unconcerned attitude while adjusting his white scrub. He was about to reach the top of his career at the young and tender age of 27. He could not believe that he was about to treat that infamous boy who had committed such a terrible act. He slowly looked into the room through the glass-door. Everything was white: the cot, the walls, the straightjacket… his face was serene… his sight was lost under the fluorescent light. He came in the room. The patient remained unbothered. Random thoughts were troubling his mind. The doctor sat on the opposite side of the cell. He took a small notebook and a pencil out of his pocket. –would you tell me what happened? Feel free to speak…– the boy remained indifferent. The doctor waited for a couple of hours. –Time may be a psychiatrist’s biggest help– he thought. However, he was only a man. Then, he decided to stand up and head towards the door. –What a waste of time… – he considered. Suddenly he heard the words he was expecting: –Where have you taken him? The doctor was surprised. –Him? Who are you talking about? –said the psychiatrist.
–Dagger! Get in already! What are you waiting for? Is it that I have to do it all by myself, you useless being?! –Stop calling me that… you know I hate it when you do it, Chris. –Then get in the house and do as we planned… –The house was as old as the town itself. Wooden stairs, crooked windows, and a gloomy lightning that revealed how imperfect it was. Little children do not walk in front of that place because it has been said that it is haunted. Older people do not go near the house, for it has been said that a person was slaughtered in there at least a decade ago. The truth was that the house was not haunted, and the urban legends told about it were false… at least still they were. Dagger had met Chris Truman a couple of years ago. It is amazing when you meet somebody, and it seems that you have known each other for ages. –Get in! –repeated Chris. Dagger stepped into the house. He was nervous. His heart was like a little rabbit’s heart. –Can rabbits sense their death when they are about to be skinned? –Thought Dagger. Immediately, he heard a painful moaning. She was upstairs. Now he remembered. –So? Will you do it or not? –inquired Chris. –I will – whispered Dagger.
–Then you did it? – questioned the psychiatrist like a little kid who wants to know what comes next in his favorite fairytale. Dagger looked at him… his eyes were piercing him like a fishhook pierces a helpless worm. Dagger continued: –I don’t wanna talk about the things we’ve gone through. Though it’s hurting me, now it’s history –pardon me? –intervened the doctor, but dagger seemed careless about this interruption: –I’ve played all my cards, and that’s what you’ve done too: nothing more to say, no more ace to play. The winner takes it all… –At that moment, the therapist realized that his patient was no longer telling his story. His mind was rambling. He was now repeating a soppy, corny song from the 80’s. –Well, it’s alright if you do not want to continue with your telling… I understand… –added Stevens.
Chris continued calling him names. Dagger was impatient and scared at the same time. He decided to go upstairs. Every step was like a recollection of his memories. Happy and sad memories were revolving around in his head. Finally, he reached the end of the hallway. He pushed the door in front of him… it was dead cold. There she was… crying and vulnerable… handcuffed to the bed board. Her voice had been silenced with a piece of gray industrial adhesive. There was no way out. The time had come… Dagger went closer… she was looking at him like a lamb on its knees. He sat next to her, and caressed her ebony hair. Her pale cheeks were soaked by her own tears. She had experienced tears before: sad tears, happy tears… however, these horror tears were new in her life. They were somehow bitter and thicker than regular tears. Chris was standing on the bedroom’s doorway. –Here you go… –said Chris while he handed a kitchen knife to Peter. Dagger was hesitating. His hand was shaking. –A knife is heavier when you know you’re going to kill someone with it –he thought. He caressed her face for the very last time… then, he started to slowly carve her face with the tip of the knife. The pain was intense, but she could not scream. Drowned moans engulfed the room. Her face was now cut open ¬–you’re not that pretty once one gets to see your insides –murmured Dagger. Suddenly, he thought that it was no longer fair for her to remain silent. He gradually removed the adhesive, for it was not the kind of pain he wanted to inflict. She started shouting. She felt that she was drowning in her own tears and blood –why?! –she screamed repeatedly. –you still don’t know it, do you? –replied Dagger. All this time and you still don’t know it! She stopped crying. Suddenly, she objected with a sunken shriek: –I’m your sister, for god’s sake…! –Shut up! I’m nothing like you… –shouted Peter. By then, Chris had gone closer –if you do not do it now, you’ll never do it… trust me Dagger… it has to be one of you… it’s you or her… do you want it to be you in that bed?... Peter closed his eyes and imagined himself powerlessly dying… the picture was not pleasant at all. He dropped the knife. He looked at his hands and slowly grabbed his sister’s tender neck. Eye to eye they met. A furious look met a desperate gaze. He felt her neck breaking and collapsing. That was it. Only one of them was alive now. He turned around to see Chris’ reaction, but he was not there anymore. Dagger panicked… Chris was the mind behind the act. It was him who revealed the truth to Peter. It was so clear for him. It was meant to be… Dagger and his sister could not exist both in the same world. One of them had to die… Luckily, Chris was there to open Peter’s eyes.
The psychiatrist was amazed. The theory in the books was nothing like reality itself. Unexpectedly, Dagger asked in despair: –where is he? Did you catch him? Where have you taken him? The doctor replied: –do you mean Chris…? Chris Truman…? Don’t you get it? –The doctor hesitated –He never existed… you created him… your devious mind found a way to excuse your crime… he has never existed…– Peter was confused. He could not believe the doctor’s words. That cannot be possible. He was not crazy. –Chris actually exists – he thought … –Chris actually exists… he does! Doesn’t he…?

Texto agregado el 18-02-2009, y leído por 144 visitantes. (0 votos)


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