He strode toward the ward 92. “92” he repeated again again, jumping full of joy. He was going to have fun. He will make his day a good one. He will have one of his best days and the next will be even more delightful. He’ll have fun. He would allow himself to have fun after he had been away from it for so many years. “Damn it all” he said, smiling frenzied. He was so happy because he was spoiling himself again. Now he was a new man, a mature man who would make good decisions, who would be cautious. He had been cautious so many years! Why wouldn't he have been now as well? He can have fun. He can. He repeated himself again that his inflexibility would not block him from now on.
He opened the door to the lounge and saw the senator lying on the sleeping bed waiting for him. Waiting for him, of course. But why would she have expected him? For a kidney. For a damned kidney. Because she was too weak. He moved toward the bed and laughed softly. It will be fun. He would have had so much fun that his heart was no longer overcome the sensation. He felt like he had been born for this moment. He felt as though God himself had allowed him to be born for this moment. His intuition was pushing him quickly, quickly, in small steps, but quickly to this moment. How quiet she would not be, how much she would scream, beg, beg. Again, the emotions took over him, after feeling so empty.
He stopped, positioning his hand over the patient's mouth, then with the other hand, pressed her nose tightly as if he wanted to pull it out. At least now he would do his job well. She awoke with agitation, and San freed her airway a few seconds before she had awakened. He could use his intuition forward, because he had done his job successfully now.
The woman looked at him for a few seconds then said nonchalant, “I've had a terrible nightmare. So vivid, doctor, I could swear I was really choking.”
San smiled gently then sat down on the chair beside the bed. He stood for a few seconds waiting for the vital question that would have brought him ultimate satisfaction.
“When will I have the operation? When do I get the kidney of that monster?”
“So pathetic…” San was smiling gently again and coming closer to her, whispered something indistinctly. “You are the one who talks?” he wanted to tell her loud, loud, to hear him and scream at him like a brat that she was, but he was in control today, it was his day, it was the day of sacrifice. “Today” he said, and she smiled pleased. San would be satisfied, too. So satisfied.
“Follow me, please” he continued, offering his arm as the women's legs touched the cold floor. Could she have imagined that her body would be much colder soon? Surely not. Because San's arm seemed too firm in the gentle movement, too firm in the work he had to do to have her imagining that the firmness of the hold was only the firmness with which she would also gather from her life.
She was weak, but the thought that it would soon be over made her strong. Her daughter doesn't deserve much, but revenge was something that anybody deserves. This was what the woman was saying to herself as she moved toward the operating room, trying to prove that she was a good mother, a real mother. She couldn't have imagined that her act was just one of her ego, not of love. A clumsy murderer had taken her daughter's life and not at any time… at the worst moment of her life. The elections were so soon, and she had to keep mourning. But for whom? For an unwanted daughter, unwanted from conception to the moment of her death. She had never planned to have children, and the pregnancy had been destroying her. She had such a bright future, but she had to live another life in her belly. She felt repulsed by her and her daughter. She felt disgusted by herself because she had been so immature as to reach this point, at the point where she had a daughter. But why was her daughter such a distressful? She didn't love her, nor did she wants to make the effort to pretend she loves her. Sometimes she was standing beside her in public for not to draw attention, but she felt suffocated. She was suffocated by her own decisions, by her own immaturity. And her daughter did nothing to make the mother to accept her in the house, if not in her heart. The daughter was intelligent, intelligent, and childish. It was just like her mother, and this makes the senator even more repulsed. Why should her daughter be the person who she had been when she had made the greatest mistake in her life? Why should it be the woman who had not chosen abortion?
She let herself be transferred to the operating room, thinking of how she had escaped the greatest load of her life, how she had escaped from her daughter. She will soon complete her duty, and forget about everything, about the fact that she had a daughter. She would continue her life as though the girl had never existed, as though she was an insect who had been swarming in her house for days, and who she could not catch to kill wildly, dirty. Dirty. As if not the mother was the dirty one.
But within a few moments the silence became terror. She was lying on the table, securely tied, so firmly that she felt her bones tighten. San was smiling at her. He smiled gently again. Why was she that immature woman who doesn't see though people, who doesn't read the true meaning of their smiles?
“I liked that so much…” he said gently, so gently and calmly. His gentleness slowed her mind, so many tangled voices echoed in her head while San was smiling gently.
“Because I liked it so much I began to think of you and what I could do with you.” he continued moving his fingers all over her body. He felt nothing. He could imagine the sensation that his fingers were making, but he felt nothing. Her whole body was numb, just like a corpse.
“You are alike… that’s probably why you don't love your daughter, because you don't love yourself. We are so different, my dear.” he continued, playing with the woman’s hair. “As quiet was your daughter too.” he smiled again at the woman, gazing empty in her eyes full of tears.
He felt her trembling under his touches, under his words and realized that she deserved to take his froggies’s role. He liked her quiet, shivering slightly, not giving in a sound. San understood why his frog had done it. It was really pleasant to see a person's mind crumbled, especially the mind of this woman. He even began to reflect on his decisions about the frog. He can keep it as a pet. It did not matter that the animal was scabby, his toxicity did not matter, because his owner wasn’t different. It would have been pleasant to be his natural enemy, to become his natural enemy, to make her species disappear. Playing with him outside his habitat seemed amusing. Now he understood poaching so well.
“You Know” he whispered, grasping her hair, pulling her closer. “She doesn't make a sound when she was raped either." He was hoping he would touch a sensitive point, hoping to make her talk because of his silly lies. She had never been abused in this way, but she had abused others in this way, and something was dictating him to punish her. He had to punish them. They deserved to be punished, both.
“Never… never” whispered the woman with her trembling voice.
“Really?” he laughed. How much would a rhetorical question shoot her down? “Perhaps not by me…” he continued in amusement, and the woman closed her eyes “perhaps only” he said, then forced her lids to open.
“Your Daughter has learned that I hate inactivity. You should learn how irritating it’s when you discuss such things. These are important things. Don't you think?” she can feel the irritation in his voice, but she did not look at him, didn't answer, merely swallowed.
His finger began to press on the still open eye of the woman. “You are intelligent, intelligent enough to realize what the activity means in a conversation. Fuck it, if we keep talking, let's talk, if not, let's get to work, my dear lady.” The woman whined in response.
He was completely amused, too persistent in her unpleasant behavior. He was too lazy and happy with his new animal to play with her. San would have betrayed him if he had played with her too. Frogs are also a kind of puppies. And the dogs are getting jealous quickly. They feel that you played with another puppy. They smell you. You smell like a traitor.
“In this case, I do my job, my dear lady. Shall we review the situation?” he asked, but once again there was no answer. The smell of blood that had not even dried yet makes him sick again. He had even soiled his shoes, and she dared not answer.
“How much disrespect on your side, don't you think? From the beginning to the end, you have shown just disrespect. A certain individual is in my house because you don't have enough connections and you're not clever enough to find out who killed your girl.” he continued with a flat tone while playing with the sharp blade. “Here it started. And now you refuse to talk to me… how disappointing, don't you think?” he said, grasping her fat thigh. He would have liked to have behaved differently, to have been able to release her from that fat body, to have peel off her skin little by little, to get rid of that piggy’s dirty fat, and reinvent her.
“Let's recap your situation and your desire: A kidney for you, the rest for society?” she had not answered again. He became even more irritated and when he was irritated he did his business without anesthetic.
The procedure was carried out without trouble, with a few screams, tears, and even a faint, even words. “No, No. Please, no!” But he just nodded his head. He would brag about it to his dear pet. Then he would make his frog speak to him like a parrot.
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