A Town Called Rellik (Part 1/20)

A Town Called Rellik
Story One: If Dreams Could Kill


“The baby is finally put down.” She said as she entered the room.
They had been married for four years now, and he couldn’t really complain.  He had the $680,000 house, three cars all worth more than 100 grand apiece.  The perfect job and the trophy wife, and my god, was she a trophy.
Sarah was 5’8, long black hair and a busty athletic build.  Her awe-inspiring breasts had remained the same since he had first seen her in his Philosophy class.  The majority of the class was spent eye fucking her from across the lecture hall and doodling in his notebook.  But it wasn’t until he got the car, the house, the job and more importantly, the money till he got the trophy wife.  Deep down inside Cedrick Kane he hated her for that, although he decided he could overlook that small flaw in her character pending the fact that she didn’t fall apart after the baby.
“Cedrick, did you hear me?”  Her voice echoed in the lounge.
It was his room, beautiful dark wood floors and high vaulted ceilings.  A fireplace roared behind him as he sat drunkardly in a $14,000 European leather armchair.  Next to him stands an ebony side table.  He can’t remember the price, but if you ask him he will assure you it is pricy.  Carefully placed on top of that is a crystal coaster with a glass of iced whiskey.
“Oh yeah, thanks babe.”  He said under his breath, tipping that tumbler glass to his mouth automatically.  Almost like an indicator for when he is sick tired and done with the conversation.
“Ciddy, how was your day at work?”
He felt a knot form in his gut, and the urge to down a bottle of whiskey, drive his car till it hit something.  God, he hated it when she used nicknames like that.  It filled him with the rage to commit multiple felonies.  Oh, and he hated the shit out of work.
He poured a big glass and went on the long fifteen-foot journey from the bar to his chair, but then just opted to just bring the bottle and ice bucket over to the ebony table.  Next to his favorite ch..
“Oh.. that’s ok.” He said sarcastically
Sarah was sitting in his chair in a very sultry “come fuck me” way.  He settled down in the chair on the other side of the ebony table.  They were the exact same chairs, but his was better.  It had that vibe.  It was just better and that’s that, but the fact that Sarah was now in his chair enraged him, but not enough to do anything about it.
God did he hate work.  He wasn’t really sure what he even supposed to do.  He would drive into town, showed up late and then immediately leave the office.  These “important” business meetings seemed to pop up at the last moment every day, and every day it was at a bar.  These meetings always ran through his lunch and into the late afternoon.  Which left him with just enough time to fuck his secretary in his office and head home from his daily commute home.  Now it wasn’t like he wasn’t working.  He met with clients and co workers, but come on, its not like real work.
On any given day he was gone from seven to seven, some days even later.  Usually once a week he would spend most of the night at Tommy’s.  Tommy was an old college buddy, who accomplished nothing, but was always down for a good time, mostly just weed, sometimes coke, but nothing to heavy.  Tommy had always said Cedrick was fucked up.  He had reached all his goals, gotten all the girls, but all he’s become is an alcoholic waste.  Cedrick never argued, he always gave a red and hazy eyed nod of acceptance.
Maybe dreams aren’t supposed to be accomplished?  He doesn’t feel proud or safe with what he has achieved.  It could fall apart at any moment.  He just felt sick.  He just wanted to tear it all apart, granted he has been drinking steady since 7:30 am.  He felt sick, and the weed was wreaking havoc on his thoughts.
“Want another hit man?”
“Naw, sorry Tom.  I gotta jet, you know Sarah and the kid n’ all.”
“Yeah that’s cool.  Here’s a small bag to go and, hey say hi to Sarah for me.”
“Will do man.”
Tommy took a long pull, his long hair almost reaching down into the slider almost catching fire.  “ You know you stole her from me”, he said nonchalantly.
“What?”
“Sarah!”
“Oh, I know man, shit.. you know I am sorry.  I mean, I don’t know what to..”
“I just wanted you to know, I don’t think I ever said anything to you about it.  It is no real prob, just you know.”
“Yeah, well I am out.”
Cedrick could hear the gargle from the bong and a muffled and low “Peeaaccce maann!” as he shut the door.
Tommy was a good friend to Cedrick, maybe the only one he really has.  Tommy had been by his side since Cedrick could ever remember.  In the college environment Tommy had been more of an activist than a student.  He attended every march and protest the area had to offer.  Tommy and Sarah had been an item throughout college.  At that time Sarah was attracted to the “saving the world one tree at a time” bullshit.  Things changed once we graduated when the only job he could get with his philosophy and theology degrees was being a cook at some back alley restaurant.
As expected Sarah left faster than rats jumping a sinking ship.  The only thing that Cedrick didn’t see coming was that she left Tommy for him.  She left Tommy right as Cedrick got his job.  They should have seen it coming.  That fact would forever hang over Cedrick’s head, although Tommy seemed to understand everyone’s situation in life and everyone’s choice.  He never blamed anyone.  He still remained a good friend and moved to Mt. Basin when Cedrick also moved.  If there was any uneasiness it was all in Cedrick’s head.
“So how was work baby?” She said, snapping him out of his happy memories.
“Fine, I stopped to see Tommy today.”
“I can tell,” She said in a friendly yet accusing way, “How is Tom Tom?”
“Fine” he says as a knot forms in his gut and he begins to fantasize about lynch mobs.  “He sends his love.” Cedrick says a he begins to slightly chuckle.
“Don’t be a smart ass!”
“Babe would you do me a favor and grab that pipe over there near the fireplace.”
She brought it over and sat back down and began rambling on about shopping and shit.  He picked up the long ebony pipe.  It was the classic tobacco pipe, but with a slight bend and ivory inlay.  He packed it with the bag he got from Tommy, as she continued to go on and on.  Finally after nearly five minutes of excruciating listening she exclaimed that she was going to bed and that I should come to bed soon too.
As she got up to lean in for a kiss, Cedrick sparked fast and took a big hit, holding it in.  Once their lips touched, all hell broke loose.  He exhaled.
“You fucking asshole! You know I don’t do that shit any more.  As a matter of fact you shouldn’t either.  We have a baby now!’
She reached in trying to grab the bag.  Most likely with the intent of flushing it, but Cedrick grabbed her wrist before she could reach it.  “Go the fuck to BED!”
“Fuck you Cedrick! Let go of me!”
“Fuck you to baby.  Go take your pills and go to bed.”
She turned around and calmly walked out of the room, flipped off the light, flipped him off and continued down the long hallway to the bedroom.  “Love my girl”, he yelled as he threw his glass at the love of his life.  It didn’t even hit her.  Cedrick didn’t expect it to; he was far to messed up now to make an accurate shot.  The glass only made it halfway down the hallway before shattering on the $2500 marble tiles near the entryway.
He unscrewed the bottle and began drinking it straight.  After a long pull he once again reached for the ebony pipe.  “It’s going to be a long night,” he said to himself as he turned on the stereo system.  The entire system set him back a mere five grand, but he didn’t mind.  The price was worth it.  The sound quality is pure and crisp as “Song of Joy” boomed in the lounge.  He grabbed another glass before he sat down again and prepared himself for the long night.
Cedrick woke up hours later in a cold sweat.  It was nearly dawn.  “Fuck, my head hurts, and what the hell was with that dream?”  He started down the long hallway towards the bathroom.  The shadows twisted and turned in the hallway as the new day sun fought for control of the skies.  He stared down the hall into the bedroom.  Suddenly something triggered a piece in his dream.  He was on top of Sarah.  In and out.  In and out!  Part of him was truly terrified of the dream; the other part of him reveled in it.
Once he reached the bathroom he turned on the light.  “Fuck” he yelled in his anger at himself for blinding himself, it nearly a minute for his eyes to finally adjust to the snow blinding white of his master bathroom.  He slicked his hair back with his eyes clothed and turned on the faucet.  He cupped his hands, and was shocked as the cold water crashed into his hands.  He poured the water on his head, looked up at the mirror and opened his eyes.
To shocked to speak Cedrick Kane simply looked at himself in the mirror, his hands and face covered in blood.  The sink, the faucet, light switch and walls were much the same.  He looked back in the mirror and he knew exactly what happened.
He ran to the bedroom and turned on the light.  What he saw was exactly what he expected to see.  Sarah lay motionless on the bed.  Eight small red stains show through the 100 thread-count sheets he had bought her last week.  He lifted the sheet to see the damage done.  From somewhere deep down inside Cedrick Kane chuckled, but it was then immediately silenced.  He left the bedroom and made his way to the baby’s room.  He didn’t even enter the room.  He knew what he had done.  That morning Cedrick Kane’s son lie under his “Winnie the Pooh” pillow.
He decided, like most would do in a situation like this.  He cleaned the blood the best he could, and packed a duffle bag of the necessities: clothes, money, passport, carton of cigarettes, weed and two bottles of $50 whiskey.  But before he could get his shoes on, he stepped on the broken glass from earlier.  It hurt in a way words cant describe.  Then the whisky began to burn like the tongues of hell were licking his feet already.  His eyes welled up, but he didn’t cry.  Cedrick put on his shoes and left his home for good.  He walked out a marked man.  Hell had already chosen Mr. Kane, and his fate was sealed.