Gene’s House
The television was on.
The lamp lit.
The bed, tidily made.
A chair in the corner of the room was occupied by its owner.
The room, contemporarily furnished.
A curtain drawn; another closed.
A romantic comedy played the ending credits.
Gene sighed.
“I’ve loved many. None were worthy enough to stick around and be my forever love. Just a shame really,” was Gene’s audible thought as he shook his head to shrugged it off. Gene prepared for bed.
As per his custom, he went to the bathroom for his facial routine: cleanse, tone, moisturize.
Then Gene brushed his teeth and changed into his A-line t-shirt and cotton shorts.
Everything was routine. However, repetitiveness kept him looking good.
Gene was proud of that.
Of course, being a burly man of six-foot-five had its benefits. Gene was an impressive combination of statuesque and rugged. A strapping man with absorbing hazel eyes, a strong chin, and sharp features. This meant that Gene could essentially have any woman he wanted.
Being metrosexual was just the icing on the cake.
The ladies love it. Gene thought, smiling as he sat on the edge of the bed.
Rolling into its comfort, Gene pulled the blankets over his body, yawning before drifting off to sleep.
++++
Idalis Motel Room
Idalis was fundamentally tired.
Mentally.
Emotionally.
Spiritually.
Even physically.
Just. Plain. Tired.
Tired of the drama, the pain, the tears, the torment … the- well- just everything.
How long had she put up with Gene’s nonsense, narcissism, abuse, philandering, and only God knows what else …?
Oh, yeah. That’s right! Three years! She recalled. Three-fucking-years!
“And how does he repay me? By killing my dog. MY FUCKING DOG!” Idalis yelled to no one in particular.
Inevitably, tears followed and flowed as if there would never come an end. Idalis absolutely loved her dog more than anything because she had nothing and no one else. Gene had isolated her in such a way that Buster was all she had. Unfortunately, when Gene’s spite, anger, and abusiveness hit a fever pitch, Buster paid the ultimate price … his life.
Gene poisoned him.
Poor Buster, my baby, Idalis sobbed as the crowd of thoughts crossed her mind. What a goddamned, egocentric, egotistical, reprobate of a man! He had no saving, no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
Yet here Idalis was, stuck with him! Unless and until Gene saw fit.
But no more.
Not.
Any.
More.
Initially persuaded by Gene’s charm, Idalis was eventually dissuaded by his moral compass.
“HE’S THE DEVIL!” Idalis screamed, burying her face into the pillow which was once Buster’s favorite bed. “THE FUCKING DEVIL …!” she shrieked even louder into the fluffy material.
The neighbor in the adjacent room pounded on the wall then hollered, “Keep it down!”
The disrespectful act caused Idalis to wail outright at the wall, “FUCK YOU!” before curling into a fetal position and wallowing even deeper in her pain. No one would ever understand her turmoil.
That motherfucker is going to pay. If it is the last thing that I do, he will pay for every last thing he’s done to me.
The promise Idalis made to herself was absolute, as she knew that the only way she could appease her soul would be to make Gene pay.
Somehow.
Idalis’ chest heaved as she sobbed. Soon she dozed off to sleep.
