What have I done?

What did I do?
By Johnny Hellström

The bathroom floor feels cold against my skin.
There’s a puddle of water from the shower I just took.
A tiny spider is caught in it, and I watch it struggle to get out.
Give up, little spider.
Give up and drown.

I think back of earlier that day.
How could it go so wrong?
It all started around 8:30, I had just eaten my breakfast, egg and toast, and I was having my second cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

Politicians talking about the problems with the health care system, a tragic accident at a lumber mill, local Drama school puts on a fashion show, for charity.
I skip to the weather forecast; apparently it’s going to rain.
I look out the window, and the sky is clear blue.
Shows what they know, I think to myself.

I call her home number, but there’s no answer.
I guess she decided to head for school early, or she’s in the shower.
Doesn’t matter, I’ll see her later anyway.
I put on my coat and for I second, I consider bringing my umbrella too, just in case they were right about the rain.

I decide I don’t need it, and head for the bus.
Arrived early today, and made it in time to take buss number 35.
Usually, I miss it, and have to wait 15 minutes for the next one, number 15.
Number 15 doesn’t go the same way, so I have to walk 3 blocks more.
But not today, today I make it in time, and get to work early.

I work at a publishing company, reading manuscripts and determine if they’re good enough to move up to the next level, for approval.
It feels good, knowing you’re a part of making sure books get published, making dreams come true for aspiring writers.

I love my job, and what’s not to like about it?
I get to sit around reading and drinking coffee, and I get paid for it.
Before I get started, I stop by my friend Henry’s office for a chat.
He seems odd, like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how.
I decide not to pursue it further, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready.
I get a cup of coffee, go to my office and start reading.
The manuscript I have today is really good, it just might get published.
I type up a positive report and head out to lunch.
Before I go, I call her mobile phone, but I can’t get trough.
The battery is probably dead again.
I keep telling her to keep track of her battery level.
It doesn’t matter; I’ll see her later anyway.

There’s a café I always go to, just down the street from the office.
I order a ham and cheese sandwich, and a glass of orange juice.
Good sandwich.
When I get back to the office, my friend Tom is there.
He looks tense, something must have happened.
“There’s something I think you should see.”

I go with him downtown, he drives.
Whatever it is he wants me to see, it seems pretty serious.
We stop by a restaurant.
I look trough the window, and I’m shocked to see…

Her… My girl, the love of my life, the one who said she’d always love me.
And she’s not alone.
She’s with some guy I don’t recognize.
“I thought you should know.”
I don’t know what to say, or what to do.
“It’s been going on for a few weeks.”
How could I not have known?
How could I have missed this?

Tom tells me he’s sorry and gives me a pat on the shoulder.
He asks me if I want a ride home but I say no.
I wait outside the restaurant, and when they finally leave, I follow them.
They walk with their arms around each other.
They look happy, like they don’t have a care in the world.

I follow them back to what I assume is his apartment.
Oh please don’t go inside with him I think desperately.
She does anyway.
I wait outside; I know she’ll have to leave eventually.
We have dinner plans tonight.

She finally leaves after what feels like an eternity.
I step out in front of her.
She looks like she’s been caught in the acts, and she has.
“What are you doing here?”
She’s shocked to see me; she doesn’t know what to say.
“I saw you.” I say, calmly.
She opens her mouth, but no words come out.
I turn and walk away.
Right then, it starts to rain.

I go home in a daze.
How could she do this to me?
She calls later, and asks if she can come over, so we can talk.
I say OK, and twenty minutes later, she’s here.
She’s wearing that green top I like; like that would somehow make it easier for me to forgive her.

She starts apologizing, saying it just happened.
I scream.
“Something like that doesn’t just happen!”
My heart is pounding hard, my mind is a blur.

And now, I sit here, naked on the bathroom floor.
There’s blood on the floor; her blood.
It must have dripped when I went to take a shower, to wash it off.

What have I done?
I picked up the coffee pot, and I smashed it against her head;
one, two, three times, until it shatters into tiny pieces.
Then I hit her, over and over again.
I lost control.

And now, she’s lying on my kitchen floor, in a pool of blood; her blood.
I get up slowly, and take out a razor blade from the bathroom cabinet.
I cut my wrists, deep, sit down, and slowly drift away.


1 year later.
She died, I survived.
A neighbour heard the screaming, and the sound of the coffee pot breaking against my girlfriends head.
She called the police, who sent an ambulance.
I lost a lot of blood, but I survived.

I was in the hospital until my trial.
I pleaded guilty.
The jury found me guilty, and the judge sentenced me to five years in a mental institution.
It’s not that bad.
I get to read, under supervision.
Maybe they’re afraid I’ll try to cut myself with the paper.
Sometimes I get visitors.

My mom comes once a month, and my sister is with her sometimes.
Tom comes every now and then, I think he feels guilty.

Last week, Henry came to visit me.
He told me he knew about the affair, but didn’t know how to tell me.
“I know,” I tell him, “and it’s OK. I’m not mad anymore.”
And then I laugh.
He leaves slowly, without a word.
I don’t think he’ll be back again.