A step into the unknown

I'd had enough. I sat in my room at my desk, thinking about my life. There was nothing in it that pleased me. Nothing. Not even my last promotion... I wouldn't have gotten it if it hadn't been for the dirty tricks I'd planted on a competitor. Up until then, nothing had bothered me. I enjoyed everything, regardless of how I achieved it. And I didn't choose my methods. The more vile... the better the result. That's called getting something over the dead bodies.

But now everything had changed. My entire life, my entire perspective on the world and myself. Ever since Dorota left me. My wife. The same Dorota whom I cheated on at least once a week. The same Dorota whom I cheated on at every turn...

Now that she was gone, I felt I had lost the will to do anything. Not even the will to live. And only now did I begin to reflect on him. On myself.

So I sat in my room, drank from the bottle of gin, and thought. About everything.

And everything I thought about filled me with disgust. I began to loathe myself. As I thought about it, I saw that I didn't even have any friends. Everyone who befriended me did so only because I mattered in their eyes. But as someone who could get something done, get something done. Never as a true friend. And I became certain that if they could, they would trample me into the ground. So why was I living?

For whom? For myself? The alcohol I'd consumed was already coursing through my veins. Everything was slowly becoming simple and meaningless. I gathered courage.

Toying with the bottle, I opened the drawer. The P-64. It lay quietly, waiting for someone to use it. I had a permit, which I'd obtained a few days after the attack. It had never been of any use to me. But I felt that this was the moment. An important moment. For me and for him.

I took the gun from the drawer and started toying with it. I released the safety… I reloaded…

But was it worth it? And what would happen next? Fear… A moment of hesitation. Everything was instantly muffled by a large gulp of gin. The barrel slowly moved towards my temple. I reverently stroked the trigger with my finger. Another moment of hesitation…. Once again muffled by the gin….What the hell…it was only a split second. Then there would be nothing. There would be no pain, no worries, no problems….Suddenly, I felt as if time had stood still…I heard the almost delicate friction of metal on metal as the trigger slowly moved along its path…the path to my end. I could hear my heart beating. And all around, silence. As if the entire world had suddenly held its breath, waiting for what would happen next. And suddenly, I felt something hit me in the face, as if someone had shouted very loudly in my ear. A distinct and piercing shiver ran through my body, until I felt it in the tip of my little finger.

No. But I couldn't do it. I put the gun down. I locked it back in the drawer. I felt like someone had doused me with a bucket of water. I was drenched in sweat, and I hadn't known it was possible to sweat so much in a split second.

I put the bottle down. No more drinking. I needed something else. Like the wind, I ran out of the room. Somewhere into the fresh air. Somewhere far away from here. The fresh air hit my lungs. I took a deep breath. It was spring. Everything would be alright again. I'd live again.

I felt hungry. Across the street was a small restaurant. I went in and sat by the window. Through it, I could see the building where my office was located. Before the waiter arrived, I'd read the newspaper. Preferably the travel agency ads. Maybe I'd leave it all for a while, go away, calm down... That would do me good.

I didn't notice him right away. Only when he was already sitting across the table from me, staring piercingly with his strange eyes. You don't see eyes like that every day. Strange isn't the right word. I'd say those eyes were unusual. And that look. As if he possessed all the knowledge in the world and was just waiting for questions.

"Do we know each other?" I asked, because nothing else came to mind.

"I know you, and you're about to meet me," he replied, his voice as strange as his gaze.

I was startled. But I looked around. There were quite a few people. I guess I shouldn't be in any danger here. At that moment, I smiled to myself; just a few moments ago I'd wanted to kill myself, and now I was afraid of a guy who hadn't actually done anything yet.

"So?" I asked, expecting some explanation for this strange situation.

I thought the waiter should have arrived by now. But whatever. They're never in a hurry.

"We still have a few minutes, so..." He paused for a moment. "Do you want some explanation?

" "Explanation?" I was starting to regain my confidence. "OK. Who are you? What are you doing here? And what do you want from me?"

He kept looking at me with his penetrating gaze. I felt strange.

"Okay," he began, "I'm your friend and I've come to your aid. Someone needs help now. And I don't want anything from you… well, almost nothing.

" "Friend?" he surprised me. "I don't even know your name…"

"You don't need to know, you'll find out when you need to," he replied.

"What the hell is going on?" I was already feeling irritated.

"What is it? You don't know what's going on? So look," he pointed at the office building where I worked, "you did this…"

A chill ran down my spine, I felt cold and an incredible, panicky fear. Slowly, as if refusing to acknowledge the facts, I looked at the building's entrance.

In front of the entrance stood a police car, a body transporter, and a small group of onlookers, friends from work. They were chatting among themselves, excited by what was happening.

I saw two men, funeral home workers, carrying a body wrapped in a black bag out of the building. The people standing outside were shaken by what they saw. My throat went dry. I felt the world slipping away from under me. I looked at the man. He was still staring at me with that strange look.

"You did it after all," he said. The gun went off.

I touched my right temple. I felt a sticky, slippery sensation on my fingers. It was blood. There was a small hole in my head, the mark where the bullet had entered.

"Yes," he added, "it happened. And now we have to go. They're waiting for us." He stood and headed for the front door.

And some invisible force pushed me after him. I walked unconsciously, driven by some invisible command. I couldn't even see any tunnel… no light.

I was gone.