Missing Puzzle Piece

                9:00pm. The abrasions on my legs where killing me. The doctor had said something about age but I never listened to him. Not anymore. It seemed that lately, everything was about my age. The dehydration at night, the pain on my legs, my dead and useless eye.

                For some reason that same night, I inventoried my belongings. Stuff I cherished, things full of memories I would never forget. And one by one, I placed them in a box. And on my agenda, I wrote everything I could think of about my treasures, and all the memories behind them.

                I felt different, distant. I heard a buzzing sound, deep in my head, deep in my heart. The way I felt when my own, blue and bright eye succumbed. The way I felt when my wife passed away. Such a strange feeling I could not decipher.

                As I gingerly applied soothing lotion on my legs, I thought. As I grimaced every time my cold, bony fingers touched the abrasions, I thought. I decided to sleep on it, to let the knots in my heart untangle by themselves. And clad in my blanket, I quietly drifted off to sleep.

                I blinked. Not once, but many times, so quickly I couldn’t really see anything. It was dark. Very dark. It was all so blurry, and something felt wrong. Like if someone was watching me. Nonsense, I thought. It’s probably the wind or something. And even thought I knew it was not the wind, I tried to put my fears away, to get the rest I needed. Just as I closed my eyes, a minuscule object hit the ground, creating a boisterous sound in the pitch black and silent room. I surmised once again it was nothing but a mouse crossing the floor, maybe a cricket that had made a single chirp. Until I saw a set of eyes.

                I rubbed my face in a cursory manner again and again. I was electrified. Not in my darkest, most sinister thoughts did I imagine that young lad could have such evil eyes. The same man that had shared this house with me for the past 20 years. The same man that had helped me so many times, that had cheered me up so many nights.

                Oh yes. He was a little odd. He was a bit unhinged. But why was his gruesome face expression so unfamiliar? So out of place?

                Even though I simulated a deep, profound sleep, I shifted every minute. Knowing that all he wanted to see was my eye. That would sure set him off wouldn’t it? I knew the minute I opened my eye, yes, my long ago dead eye, he would endeavor to kill it. So that he would no longer feel uneasy around me.

                I observed him. I saw how he looked at the eye. I felt how his eagerness and happiness ceased when he saw the eye. I knew how anxious and despicable he would become when he saw the eye. So as I laid on my bed, I derived the answer to all my dilemmas.

The buzzing in my heart became louder, yet the knots in my heart slowly untangled. Like unraveling thread, my worries, the sadness hidden inside me, disappeared. And as I pondered about my decision, I smiled. I knew nothing would corroborate it was the lad. No one will suspect anything; no one would see the evil eyes that where now waiting for me. The evil eyes that in my dreams, hidden in some secret place, where waiting for me. For me to approve. So when the smile reached my heart, I opened the eye.

                I felt the abrupt movements, I heard his chuckles, I sensed my end. The end I had been waiting for. And right before the weight of my own bed fell on my weak chest, I caught a glimpse of his smile. And right before I closed my eyes for the last time, I smiled back. For it was the first time since I had my eye, since the love of my life was next to me that, I felt happy.  I felt thankful. And as the bed swallowed my life, my fears and my despair, I finally felt in peace.