Blood And Darkness Monologue

Fuck, it’s dark in here with very little space. I have been shuffling these red and black thoughts around like a Rubik’s Cube of blood and darkness. There is only one white piece that seems to create some space. When I try occupying it, black and red forms ooze in filling it, forming a purple sludge that eventually separates back into red, and black. I am so tired and the darkness suppresses me. There must be more white pieces here, if only I could find them.

“So Justin, what brings you here?”
I am sitting in front of Gillian Wade, the pretty psychologist Dr. Steyn referred me to.
My hair is uncut and untidy. I have one week’s stubble on my face. I can’t even remember when I showered last. Gillian Wade is tall and blond and looks kind with
“Why did you go see him?”
“I started feeling a bit down after that bitch killed my family.”
“I can understand your anger,” she empathises.
“It’s not anger, it’s hatred,” I snarl back. “I hate the bitch.” “Which bitch?
“Sherri, my late wife. I hate her.”
“Do you want to tell me about it Justin; do you want to talk to me about it?”
“Well, if it’s going to make me feel better. I may as well,” I reply.
“I think it may Justin. Do you mind if I make notes while we chat?” she asks.
“Do what you have to do.”
“OK, just start at the beginning,” Gillian prompts encouragingly.

“That morning, before I leave for work, Sherri and I have a huge argument.
“Aren’t you ever going to get out of bed?” I ask her.
“I ‘m tired,” she says.
“You are tired,” I spit back. “You are tired? What about me? I was the one that was up all night with Ami, you just lay there when she started screaming, I had to get up and settle her at least three times.”
“You don’t understand,” she replies softly and starts crying. My world is full of darkness and
“I was thinking last night that no one is responsible... not Sherri or I...we are a victim of an illness and circumstance... she did what she did because she saw no other way out... Why the children as well, I don’t know, but understand... perhaps I might have done the same...I forgive her and miss her and the children terribly... now I can get on with living... my heart is bigger and my world can start to grow again...” Thank you Gillian,” I say as we both wipe tears away.

I leave Gillian’s office feeling free. There are only a few black and red pieces visible, the rest is white. There are spaces in which I can move. I feel light and free and there is a bounce in my step again. It is dusk as I arrive home and I begin feeling a little apprehensive... Not sure why. As I approach my front door, I get the whiff of metallic Guy Fawkes again and feel something hard against the back of my head.
Someone says, ‘This is for Sherri, James and Amy.”
Bang.
My head explodes into the kaleidoscopic colours of A Rubik’s Cube: Orange, red, green, blue, yellow and white which then turn black as the bullet smashes through my hair, skin and skull. The phosphorous flash burns my skin depositing a black residue. My brain’s connective tissue and fibrous membranes split open as the bullet dives into my cerebrospinal fluid and shoves its way through, obliterating my septum, prefrontal cortex and hippocampus. Fuck, It is dark. There is no