Morai
It would only take one bullet, and one bullet alone. That's why Mordecai only put one in the chamber of his Benelli M4. For most of his adult life it sat right above the fireplace in his cabin. He swore he would only use it for an emergency. He promised himself this.
That, and he would be a better man for his wife. This moment, sitting staring blankly across at the fireplace, seeing the flames flicker and the sound of the crackling wood burning. He was beginning to see himself drift from his safe zone, thinking he has to let go of the things he is attached to.
This moment, he knew he failed his wife and himself. He inhaled, closing his eyes, listening to the beat of his heart. Realizing he can't do this forever. In his head, he spoke, Dear Lord, forgive me. Let me have my regrets. Like the boy who cried wolf, he kept telling himself he needs to go, but he never leaves. This is when he breaks this habit. His walls were coming down, thinking about her. He always promised her, when he last breath goes, when his skin gets old, he will be thinking of her. He kept this promise.
Trying to line up his thoughts, but they were running back and forth. Trying to get it all together. Collecting himself, gathering his mind. One piece at a time. The hatred. The anger. The remorse. The Love. Opening his eyes. Adjusting his shoulders, his right shoulder sore. He was sinking deeper into this bad mood. His whole life, Mordecai felt like he's been holding his breathe, and he was finally at the bottom.
Opening his mouth, to speak. But nothing came out. Exhaling. His world began to slow down, sitting there on the couch. Swallowing his pride. For the past couple weeks, he's been tossing and turning, up and down, thinking about how he could of done this all different. Maybe things would of been better, maybe he wouldn't be here. Maybe his wife would be beside him.
Maybe she would of forgiven him, if he meant his sorry. Instead he said it so much, it meant nothing at all. He pulled up his sleeves, moving the benelli from his right hand to his left hand. Leaning forward, he put the gun down flat on the old wooden floors. Worn down from the years, of pacing and stepping in circles. Looking down at his feet, seeing the torn up marks of sitting in this same place. This was him avoiding to change, why his issues kept getting bigger and bigger. Telling himself he needs to be different, but instead he sat around and complained.
Thinking to himself, he needs to change, but never felt comfortable with making room. Instead, he would rather lay, in his mind. Telling his wife, he just needs a moment of silence, but yet he was yelling, "I don't wanna hear what I should and shouldn't do. Why are you always nagging. I thought that you Loved me, why do make me walk on a tight rope, last year I felt suicidal, this year I might actually do it."
That moment. She packed up all of her stuff, and walked out. "Yeah, grab all your trash. I don't wanna hear what I should and shouldn't do." This was on repeat. The last sentence he ever said to her. Again. "I don't wanna hear what I should and shouldn't do." Again. "I don't wanna hear what I should and shouldn't do." Again and Again. Again. Now, he took that benelli off the floor. He remembered his wife's last words to him "I Love you, Mordecai, you need to know, when you feel this way. There is millions just like you."
Now, he was replaying this conversation over and over. Like speaking to a ghost. He put that benelli barrel in his mouth. If he could say one more thing to his wife, he would say. "What if I told you I was worth saving that I can heal. Would you believe me? I Love you." Again, and again, and again. He heard her voice in his head. "I Love you " the calmness in her tone, "I Love you" despite the fight, despite her anger. "I Love you." The tears rushing down his cheeks the silence was hitting hard. All he wanted was to hear her voice.
She always had a way of staying still in chaos. She was always his peace. Until he sold it, he shut the door on himself, and he didn't let her in. Despite her knocks, and cries. Feeling desperate, and helpless. Watching the person you Love, crumble, and collapse in their pain. When all she ever wanted to do, was give him nothing but help, to heal him. As the outsider in his life, he was so buried in the theater of his mind. Like watching a movie, he turned it off, and for her. He muted her, but watched her with intense. Watched her lips move. But never truly listened, when he knew, she was always right. She had this way about her.
This was what made him fall in Love with her. Her intelligence with nothing but humbleness. He fell in Love with her kindness, her trust in humanity, her belief in him. She never gave up on him, he gave up on her. Just as he was about to pull this trigger he thought. "I stayed in this rut, because I felt if I were to gather the garbage and throw all my trash out I wouldn't know what to do with me anymore."
The storm raged outside of the two bedroom cabin, but the scream was louder than the thunder and rain. Flinching, Mordecai, throwing the gun from his mouth, the immediate intense migraine hit his head. His temples throbbed. Standing up. Placing the gun on the couch. Rubbing his temples walking towards the front door. Little did he knew, he left his negativity at that couch that night. Thinking I am not in the mood to meet a stranger and have a conversation about how you are being so loud when I can't even quiet myself. How am I suppose to help, when I can't even help myself ?
Just as he was about to grab the door knob, the scream outside the door was even louder than the first time. The pain in his head went away quickly, and noticeably. Taking a deep breath in confusion, he opened the door slowly. It was too dark to see, so he grabbed the flash light above the shoe rack. Clicking the flash light on, he saw nothing but flashes of light, and rain falling down fast on the dirt. Just as he was backing up to close the door, something quickly ran by, and the bush was rustling.
"Hello, who is there?" Nothing. So he said it again.
"Hello, who is there?" Again, nothing. He listened closely, trying to hear over the thunder. There was a whimper. So softly. He straightened up. That was no sound of an animal. Walking slowly over to the bush. He spoke out quietly.
"Who are you?"
As he was getting closer, the small bare back of someone hugging themselves, and as he got close. This was no adult. This was a child was naked and wet. She looked up, with wet hazel eyes. Shivered in shone. His lips parted. Startled. He ran inside grabbing a blanket off the couch, and ran back outside.
She started to softly cry, he kneeled down. "It's okay. I am not going to hurt you." Putting the blanket out, "Here put this over you. You will get sick. Get this on, and come inside."
He slowly put the blanket around this little girl, who didn't look like she was a minute over 5. She grabbed the blanket tightly around her. "It's okay, stand up." He put out his hand, but she did not take it, but she stood up slowly. He did as well.
"That's my cabin, let's go in, and see if we can figure out where you are from." She walked towards the yellow glowing front door of the cabin. He watched her bare feet step over sticks and into puddles.
He closed the door behind them.
Instructing her "Here sit down on this couch, next to this fire."
Grabbing the gun, she flinched and backed up.
"No no, it's okay. This goes here." As he put the gun back above the fire place. He looked at the couch and back at her. She walked towards the couch. He watched her slowly sit down. Her soaked brown hair dripping water onto the floor.
He sat down on the recliner beside her. Watching her in confusion. She sat there staring at the fire, biting the inside of her cheek.
He chuckled. "My wife used to do that."
She looked at him confused, and let out a small "Hmm?"
"You're biting the inside of your cheek. My wife used to do that, when she was nervous, or anxious." Pictuing his wife in his head. "Than I realized I started to do it myself."
The little girl didn't say anything, she just stared. "Why are you doing it?" He asked.
She shrugged her shoulders, and put her head back down.
"Who are you, and where are you from?" She didn't look up, she kicked her feet up and down.
Mordecai looked around, and down the hall. He stood up, looking at the clock. Thinking What a long day. It was only midnight. He walked down the hall, and went to his closet. He closed his eyes, still thinking of his wife despite the circumstances. He usually avoided looking at her clothes. But he knew he had to, he grabbed one of her long sleeve shirts.
Placing the shirt on the couch beside the girl.
"Please put this on, than the blanket back on." She nodded.
He walked into the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. Rubbing his chiseled jaw. He looked deep into his blue eyes. Closing them. He ran his fingers through his black hair that was graying at the sides. He went pee, and was about to wash his hands until he heard a crash in the living room.
Quickly running out, he saw the girl standing by the couch with the shotgun on the ground.
Picking it up he said "Don't play with this, this is dangerous."
She looked up at him and said "I didnt."
Shocked she spoke at all. He thought, maybe it fell. Sighing. He walked over the telephone, dialing 911, but hearing no ringing. He walked into the kitchen to grab his cellphone sitting on the counter. He had no bars. Shaking his head.
"The storm is messing with the service, once it's back we will call into town, and figure this out. If we can't, we will wait till the storm ends and drive you into town."
Walking over to the girl he asked "Sound good?" She nodded.
Looking around. Feeling his headache coming back on. He realized he didn't remember eating dinner.
"Until that, let's say we get you something to eat?"
She nodded. "Do you like cereal?" She smiled, he smiled back.
Walking back into the kitchen he spoke out.
"How about you climb up on this chair." She walked into the kitchen, and climbed up on the bar stool as he was pouring cereal.
Sliding it over he said. "I am Mordecai, and you?"
She grabbed the spoon and took a bite.
Speaking with a mouth full and a slight smile. She said.
"Morai."
Mordecai in shock, tensed his jaw. With a swallow. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach sank.
"Morai?" He said. "I always knew I'd meet someone named Morai."
