"One year has passed and I'm still here looking through this small window, looking at the very same spot and trying to imagine the things that unfolded then. And for each day that passes the events are becoming harder and harder to understand. As if it wasn't bad enough that everyone has forgotten what happened here one year ago, last month the authorities decided to put a bench on the exact same spot she died. A fucking bench... They cleared my little pot holding flowers and installed a freaking bench. What were they thinking I asked myself on that day. That people will want to relax at a murder scene?
But I was surprised once again by the ignorance of the masses, by how easily people get steered. Steered away from their ideals and their individuality. Steered towards an endless pit of false hope and lust. Steered by both the leaders we elect and put our trust in but also by strangers that want our money.
This bench represents all that and more. They didn't even have the courtesy to put a name tag on it so that she could be at least mentioned: "Look honey, it says "in memory of Gloria"; let's not sit here, let's find somewhere else to sit.". No, no one would say that. They would probably say something like: "I wonder who this bitch Gloria was and what she did to deserve this; probably an old hag that used to feed pigeons with leftovers; or some big-ass's wife that died killing herself on this bench cause her husband had too much balls to spread around. And now, full of guilt and sorrow that bastard bribed some authority to let him build a bench here; it's not even a comfortable one."
Everyone forgets. Even I'm starting to forget her. And this alcohol sure isn't working. "Bartender, another round! Make it a double! And I've told you a million times, can you clean that dirty ass window over there? I can barely see her. My wife that's who. She said she was going to get a divorce and hand me the papers. Serve me? The joke's on her; I'm going to watch her waiting and after she leaves I'm gonna call her and ask where she's hiding cause I've been waiting for her for so long". Hehehe!"
So many things were said that day and none of them really
reflected my feelings towards her. She slammed the door on her way out,
screaming for divorce, while I was looking for things to say in the
company of a bottle of Scotch. Time was not indulgent over our marriage,
that is for sure... But to think that I would become life's and society's joke...
Our blind justice system decided to release on parole one of our many killers this beautiful country had created. On that cursed night, their paths crossed; they said she resembled her mother whilst others said she was killed precisely on 11th of March, the day he was caught 10 years ago. I don't know if he killed her cause of his psychotic delusions or because he wanted to piss on the justice system. Doesn't matter now does it?
I've been the star of many television and newspapers articles. I've been probably cursed by every authority figure starting from the mayoral office to the general attorney and penitentiary system for making the story public. I've also been blamed for drinking too much, for being a cheater. Some people would stop me on the street to try cheer me up whilst others were looking at me with pity; probably they figured out how of a loathsome person I am. People would say that it was entirely my fault for letting things get
out of hand, but I know better. Well...I used to think that I knew
better. I always had an opinion about what is right or wrong. But our opinions won't do shit in the face of reality. We're shaped by other people's actions and we can only walk on the path built by those actions' consequences.
A fucking bench... Hehehe! It's not even a pretty one!"