I brought 3rdstryker some water. I was horrified at her obvious agony. She could no longer bare her own suffering, or mine. Suddenly, she grabbed the knife from the floor and plunged it into her stomach. Her cries were like razor blades through my ears.
Mx: Oh, no! No! I love you! What have you done, baby! No! I will never forgive myself!
3rdstryker: There's nothing you could have done.
Mx: Oh, my God! Somebody, help!
3rdstryker faded slightly, then to a pale shadow she died.
Mx: Please, baby, stay with me 3rdstryker! Don't leave me alone!
I looked at her hand. Our wedding ring was in her tiny white hand. I took the ring from her dead body because I needed some part of her to live within me for the rest of my pointless life. I set the house on fire and sent my dead soul to India.
One year later I was living in this tiny house which was between the outskirts of a remote Indian village and a school. I was allowed to live there, as the type of leprosy I suffered from was not contagious. I looked at my deformed hands. The loneliness I felt was unbearable. I was a poor leprosy man with a dropsy body, face was hollow and the colour of my body was grey like a dirty ashtray. My life was not only trapped by the leprosy but also by the memories of the past. I went to the loo. I looked at my thing, it was so different. It's shape changed so much... its colours... everything! As I pulled the chain, my willy fell off into the loo and my most precious thing went off with the water. There was nothing more to live for. I have to find a way to kill myself, abusing alcohol would be a slow death. I needed a fast death.
Suddenly the water from the loo floated upwards, like a hurricane. Was it the alcohol taking effect? What were my eyes witnessing! A hand climbed out of the toilet, grasping my fallen willy. A voice boomed from below, "Have you lost something?" It asked. I was speechless. With a stuttering voice I answered back, "Who the hell is this?".
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