He was ready to kill. He already knew who would be his first kill. But for some reason, he wasn’t able to write her name.
Our mind and heart work in very different ways. The mind is like a scholar, putting logic above everything else, trying to rationalise everything, look for the pros and the con’s, calculating probability in each case and making a decision accordingly. But the heart, it wants what it wants. It knows everything that the brain knows, all the probability, facts and statistics stuff, but it just doesn’t care. Even their goals are different. The mind does what is good for him. In mind’s logics and probabilities lies this vision. Whatever mind does, it has a strong background information and facts supporting it. The heart wants to make him happy. In heart’s continuous efforts to reach the unreachable is his happiness.
These are two different things of course, to make someone happy or to do what is good for them. People don’t always like what is good. Be it salad, exercise or studies. He thought his brains to be too logical sometimes. It knew what is good for him, for his future, for his life in the long term but it isn’t always necessarily the same thing that he want. His heart knew him better, knew what he wanted and what would make him happy. Even when he knew that this happiness is more often than not momentary. and followed by a great length of sadness. This sadness was the reason that he had started ignoring his heart. It rarely spoke to him. But when it did, it demanded to be heard.
Heart had just been a listener up to this point but when it came to her, the heart behaved rebelliously. And once the heart has decided on something, then there is no point trying to convince it otherwise.
By the time he touched the ball point of the pen to the paper, his heart had decided. He had no other choice but to listen to the heart. He skipped her name and instead named the other one whom he loved and desired so wholeheartedly.
“Money” he wrote down as the first name. He remembered how he had always dreamed of having loads and loads of money. How he wanted the leather boots when he was 13 and the new Adidas at 21. He always wanted a bicycle when he was a kid and when he got it, it didn’t take even 6 months to get bored of it and how he had wished for a bike then. He always wanted expensive cloths, a wardrobe full like they showed it in the movies. A big new LCD TV and the latest Playstation and Xbox. He wanted his own place instead of this one bedroom kitchen, which he had to share with others at times. He wanted money, lots of it. He had been following money wherever it went but was never able to get enough of it. Every time he had a little more, his definition of “Enough” changed and he desired a little more. This constant running around had made him tired. It had turn him into a depressed soul. He would stay home on weekends, skip on parties and picnics. He wanted to kill money or at least his desire of it, so that he can be at peace and be satisfied with what he had.
While writing, he was at all times thinking of her, feeling a bit relieved knowing that she didn’t had to die and also becoming more and more confused about the purpose of all this if he didn’t include her name in the list but the feeling of relief was greater than the confusion and it made him to ignore the subject and move to the task at hand.
As soon as he wrote down “Money” on the paper, he heard his doorbell ringing.