Esteban picked up the small sparkling thing that was embedded in the dirt. He inspected it more closely. It wasn’t an ordinary rock as he first thought but a diamond earring set in gold. Perhaps it had been his wives. He wasn’t supposed to, but he pocketed it. He wasn’t supposed to because his house was a crime scene. He didn’t want to stay in the house where his family was slaughtered. He couldn’t without breaking down.


He walked absentmindedly to the place he always went when he was troubled. This was the place where he could find the perfect person to talk to. He only had to knock twice before the door was flung open.


Efrain invited him in and served him a drink. He started spilling out things that otherwise he would have kept caged inside.


“Everyone I’ve ever loved is dead, and there’s nothing left. What am I supposed to do? Start over? No, that’s one of those things that’s easier said than done. You know what? No, I have you, my best pal and you’ll always be there for me because you’re a nice person.” Esteban finished drunkenly.

--------------------


Esteban awakened on the couch with a sinister headache. He could hear the shower running from all the way down the hall. When he stood up, he felt lightheaded and dizzy. He paced around the living room. As he walked he occasionally stopped to observe a photograph. One of them caught his eye. It was of Efrain and him posing as rock stars at a weekend barbecue. That wasn’t what caught his attention though. He took the earring he’d stumbled across out of his pocket. In the picture, his pal was wearing one just like it. Esteban finally knew what it was like to realize ones worst fear. What the small piece of jewelry he was holding in his palm implied was something he absolutely didn’t see coming. The person who had taken everything from him was the person he had the most trust toward, Efrain.


He tiptoed to Efrain’s room and rummaged through his stuff for any clue or evidence he didn’t really want to find. When he peered under the bed, his eyes met an ordinary black shoe box. He lifted the top halfheartedly and when he saw the photographs of his family, red leather gloves, and revolver his heart took a dive. When he reached for the picture of his wife, he noticed something he hadn’t before, an orange prescription bottle for someone diagnosed with schizophrenia.


Esteban held the revolver in his hand. His blood was boiling, but he didn’t know for what, revenge or justice. He had the opportunity to shoot the man who had ruined his life or turn him in. at the same moment he had finished that specific train of thought, the sound of running water ceased.


Efrain’s footsteps grew nearer and nearer. Esteban held the revolver with more determination. Efrain paused in the doorway and threw his hands up in the air when he saw Esteban with the revolver aiming straight at him.


“Efrain, I trusted you more than anyone. Why did you murder them? Why did you murder all of them?”


“It’s hard for you to understand. I had to. The angels wouldn’t leave me alone. They told me that those people you call family were demons. They wanted to take your life. I couldn’t let them do that.”


“Angels aren’t real. Demons aren’t real. You’re sick. It’s true. You really can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what’s not.”


“You’re not a demon are you? All the demons I’ve met have tried to convince me I’m crazy.”


Esteban couldn’t recall feeling such turmoil. He looked at the man standing before him with loathing. However, he also saw the man he’d grown up with and hung out with. It was an illusion though. The man he used to love was gone along with his wife and children.


His emotional suffering would last a lifetime. On the other hand, the physical pain would last seconds. He held the gun to his own head and fired.


Efrain stood over the corpse. He looked at the blood with disgust. He pulled on the red leather gloves and picked up the revolver. “I knew you were a demon. Only demons commit murder.”


His eyes were the color of blood as he saw his reflection in the mirror.