“I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.” By this time, money had finished his poisoned drink.
“We can’t be friends anymore. We actually were never friends. You were just pretending to like me, like you are a childhood friend of mine but we never were friends. I craved for you when I was a child. I used to swear to God that you and I will be great friends when I grow up, but it was a child’s wishes and childish wishes. Now I know that the most important thing in my life is not you but my friends. The true friends, actual humans. Not you, not just some desire of my mind and creation of my imagination. I needed to kill the desire to have you. I had to kill you.” He had confessed.
“By mixing rat poison in my drink?” money said. He looked at him (money) in surprise and horror, like a thief who has been caught while actually thieving. He could say nothing. His mind went blank. He could think nothing.
“It’s ok. Don’t be afraid. You are not the first one to do this? In fact I have had this rat poison so many times with so many different people that I can now recognize which brand of poison have been used in the drink. I could tell by the smell of it.” Money kept saying, his voice raising and getting slurry. “And you were right in saying that I am not your real friend. We, both of us, have been playing this game of make pretend for a long time. But do you know why we aren’t friends? It’s because of your desires. You wanted my friendship to serve your own interests. It was you, who was being selfish. You were trying to deceive me. How can you expect our friendship to be real then? I went on and encouraged you because I wanted to know if you would ever have the courage to confront your desires. And you do. This proves that you are a good person. Maybe we can be friends now?” He rose from the old office chair that he had sunk in to shake hands with him and collapsed on the floor.
Money was dead and so was his (killer’s) desire to own money. He was almost in shock and absolutely in panic. He wanted to shout out but he stopped himself. He knew that shouting is not going to help. If anything, a neighbour or two might come to ask what happened. So he remained quiet. His whole body was trembling. He decided to sit down and took a few deep breaths. It was amazing to see how wonderfully he was handling himself after committing his first murder. He was figuring out his next move. He took out his clothes and the empty suitcases from the almirah and put money’s body in there. Then he arranged all the clothes in the suitcases except the grey hoodie which he wore to stop the shivering. He put the suitcases on top of the almirah so that nobody would notice. In just a few minutes, he had cleared up all traces of murder from his house except of course the dead-body in the almirah. He then sat down thinking over the course of events that night and made sure that he had made no mistake. He actually was feeling a little less heavy in his heart. Soon he had fully recovered from the shock and had the pen and the paper ready for another kill.