"I wasn't expecting this weather today," Julius muttered. He was soaking wet, his clothes were rugged and mismatched and looked as if he already had one foot in the grave.
"I've told you a million times not to wait for me if I'm not here," the woman stressed while she gave him a towel and a warm change of clothes.
"I had nothing else to do, and plus I like the rain. It distracts me," he shivered as he put on a large button down, which fit him like a dress.
"I'm sorry that's the only guy thing I have in my closet, good thing you're small," the woman joked. "You can get pneumonia you know, and who's going to take care of you then? Have you been taking your medication? Please don't tell me you flushed them down the toilet again."
"I hate them... Lorazepan and Thorazine make my brain feel like silly putty.Ó
The woman sighed. "Have you told your doctor yet? Maybe we can try changing the dosage or different dru--.Ó
"There is no ÔweÕ! I'm the one living with this! I'm the one losing my mind and I've lost everything because of this!" he blinked hard to stop himself from crying.
"Jul . . . I'm sorry . . . I donÕt mean to force you to do things you don't want to do. I just want to do what's best for you, we're a team remember?" she reassured him.
He nodded his head and fell into her open arms. "Why did this happen to me? I hate living like this, they never shut up," he cried.
The woman hugged Julius tight and sang a song for him to calm him down. "Why don't I go and make us some tea, while you flip through the channels and find something good to watch?" she offered.
"Okay but with--."
Julius wiped the tears off his face and grabbed the remote. He turned on the TV and came across a woman playing the violin at a concerto. As if he were the woman he unconsciously began to play a pretend violin, perfectly imitating her every note and every movement of the bow.
ÒItÕs been so long since youÕve actually played,Ó the woman said, handing him his cup. A hue of bright red spread across his face, he thanked her for the tea and took a sip. ÒBut that reminds me! I found your old violin from high school while I was cleaning the other day. Do you want it back?Ó she asked.
ÒUmmÉ I donÕt know IÕm a bit rusty, I donÕt think IÕll--.Ó
ÒLook how easy it came to you now. If you had the real thing imagine what you could do!Ó she said. Before he could protest, she ran off, and Julius fidgeted as he waited. He began to crack his knuckles and after a couple minutes passed he began to hum. The woman excitedly gave him the instrument with a warm smile.
ÒI never imagined that IÕd end up actually playing it again.Ó He smiled, ÒIt feels like there is a weight being lifted off my chest." he expressed.
"Let's see how she sings," the woman encouraged, motioning towards the instrument.
Julius began to perform as if nothing else existed. Each note seemed to bring him to life. The tempo coincided with the beat of his heart. His troubles melted away with each bounce of his bow, his legatos whispered sweet nothings.
"It's so beautiful Juls. . . . It's absolutely beautiful," tears streamed down Annette's face. Julius faltered and began to struggle holding the violin, the melody died off slowly.
Annette opened the door to her apartment as she carried in a handful of large paper bags. She put the bags on the coffee table with a sigh of relief, and hung her umbrella on the coat rack. "Julius! You left the door unlocked again! How many times do I have to tell you to make sure you always-"
She gasped and collapsed on the floor, she found Julius with his wrists slashed open holding a bloody bow and violin.
© Jacob Santos
Bio: Jacob Santos is a writer from Lincoln Heights, California which is just east of Downtown Los Angeles. In his free time, Jacob enjoys cooking comfort food and drawing in his sketchbook.