One sin, zero regret

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. That's what happed when we moved to a place among pine trees, the cabin was very comfortable, and it had an air of mystery as if there were secrets kept under lock and key, I never discovered them.

My grandfather in that cabin, once told me that I would see many things in my life, well, he was right. But I clearly remember that he spoke in a laughing tone, but what I've seen and heard isn't funny at all. My grandfather once told me that being an atheist needs much more faith than a religious one, because not believing in anything was something very impressive, absurd perhaps. Well, before I believed in God, I believed in the Devil first.

I'm a criminal journalist and I've interviewed many people. In college I had the idea of ​​creating a collection of reports, where everyone would be truthful and totally discreet in relation to the identification of the person who lived what he was going to tell.

As a child, he lived in a house considered affable in the 1980s, with a younger sister and very attentive parents. It was everything and a little more, in fact I never went through any trouble in my life, I always had structure for everything, except for the psychological one, which is the most important…

Being brief, from 15 to 17 I spent several sleepless nights, trying to swear that it was all in my head, I was on the verge of madness but not because I imagined things, but because I was sure that everything I saw and heard was real. I was tormented by a man with a bruised mouth, as if it had been sewn up and then opened again and eyes slashed, he always repeated in an animalistic voice

- Do you see me? Yes, I know you're seeing me - and then he laughed in my face, each time his laugh was louder and more alive. Maybe he fed on my dread.

Only my maternal grandmother believed in me, and what helped scare this creature away was sticking Psalms 91 on my wall. Of course I could have gone to a profession that didn't bring me so many horrifying reports, but I stand out in it because I had already seen a part of hell right in front of me, in a supernatural way, now I wanted to hear and tell grotesque stories that himself human being has done, without a doubt, these are the worst.

A woman came to my office on a very sunny afternoon, her name was Jessie and she was around 30 years old, very young and vain, the kind that every man finds beautiful at first glance, but after a while, a feeling comes of disdain, I don't know how to explain it, I was just a professional.

- I know about your work Mr. Frossard, but I must rely on your full description. What I'm going to tell you is not something we hear every day, not even in criminal newspapers.

-If I wasn't true to my word, I would have my 50 year career full of lawsuits, so far, none have come. - I answered.

-Okay, save the papers, better record my voice…

And she started to tell her story, it was very uncharacteristic, but I could tell she was trying to hide smiles as she remembered the details.

"As you can see, I am a wealthy woman who has had countless privileges in life. Well, the only thing that was abnormal in my life was my father, he was very strange. He used to do rituals in our attic.

Once, when I was around 6 years old, I heard from my room the voices and laughter of two more people, they looked like foreigners. My father had taken some friends to our house, it seemed, but then I stopped hearing the laughter. It was strange because I didn't see the window and no people were leaving. That night was the first time my father made the attic stairs accessible for someone else to climb, I remember coming out of my room and seeing the open attic space. I was always curious and that for me it was as if Eden was available, as I walked I saw several blood marks.

When I went up, still on the stairs, I could see my father around many candles, dancing with a dead woman to the sound of Mozart. I ran out and returned to my room. room, but I don't know why, I wasn't as scared as I should have been.

My mother lived in England and had separated from my father because she found him horrifying. I think that's why she doesn't talk to me anymore, she always says that I look like him….

Despite my father, I grew up without any psychological disorder affecting my routine. With a lot of effort I was accepted at one of the best universities in my city, I'm good at everything I do. I never got a no in my life, but that night, that damn night….."

"When I was 17, I was at one of the college club parties and I saw a beautiful boy. You know those cliché moments we see on television? It was a little similar, I couldn't stop looking at him and noticing his shy way sitting on the couch and moving his hands, anxious to get away from there. He stayed until the party was over, it wasn't my plan, but I stayed too just to have a chance to talk to him. When I approached him he opened a wide smile with dimples on the right side, so beautiful…. As we talked I liked him more, but he wasn't liking me that much, because when the first opportunity came for him to leave, he went.

-You still haven't said your name?- I told him

-Connor- the boy with the deep eyes answered me

-Connor….- I repeated as if it was the only thing I wanted to remember from that party.

The next day, it was almost normal, the same routine and chores as usual, but I was completely crazy about Connor and I told everyone in my area how handsome he was. But I don't know why, when we met again on campus, he noticed my look and took me to the corner, he said that he knew about my crush on him, that I better not confuse things. It was the biggest absurdity I've ever heard in my life, all the men in the city would line up immensely to have a night with me, but he, he just didn't want to….

I was completely sad, I could no longer continue with my routine, with the usual enthusiasm. Whenever I was alone, I took the opportunity to cry, even though the next day it was impossible to shed more tears, because in my head they had already stopped. But they came back, wetting my face and reminding me that Connor didn't want me.

After a few weeks, a colleague from my class decided to have a party at night at her house in the countryside, on 03/03. I remember exactly how that day was, every detail, how sunny the weather was but at the same time the rain did not stop it from falling and wetting the land of that small town. I was wearing a short black dress with sleeves that went up to the elbow, I put on very marked makeup, I wanted to enjoy the night and drink a lot, until sadness was deceived by my false enthusiasm.

It was a little difficult to get to the destination of the party, because it wasn't just in the countryside, it was an area far away from the city, close to the small hills and a small waterfall. When I arrived I saw a house on the lake, it was big and very beautiful and when I entered the first face I saw was Connor's…

Needless to say, I didn't hesitate to approach him, he looked downcast, sad. So I started bringing up a topic to cheer him up and he wasn't as arrogant as the last time. Surely I got too excited, deluding myself with something I created, just because he was nice doesn't mean he wanted to be with me. We went to the balcony and it had a beautiful view of the hills and the waterfall. The weather was good and it had stopped raining for a few moments.

Suddenly, Connor came out after a few minutes talking on the balcony, that irritated me. He literally left me talking to myself, so I went after him, angrily.

Following Connor, I noticed he was heading towards the hills, near the waterfall. I was screaming his name, but he didn't bother to come to me. We stopped near the Pines and I could feel the icy breeze taking over my body, that friendly atmosphere had ceased.

Connor looked angry and turned to me, I thought he would offend me but when he opened his mouth he said what I didn't want to hear and I had to relive my childhood again:

-I really like you Jessie, but I can't be with you, it would be a betrayal.

-How come? Do you have a girlfriend?

-No, a betrayal against my own mother…. You know exactly what your father did in '92, I was there, you were there too.

-I don't understand…- I lied, already sensing what he would say.

-My mother and I came from France at the end of 1991, we were alone in another country, another city, another neighborhood. And your dad… Oh my God, I remember the day he came up to me in a diner, grinning from ear to ear, shining eyes and a warm voice. Because he was nice to me, my mother thought he was a respectful man. We went out a lot after that day, my mom and dad were getting to know each other and he didn't stop her from taking me on dates too. One night we went to his house, and at first it was just laughter, I remember how funny he was. But at the time I didn't even know the profile of a psychopath to even suspect something, I was only 6 years old.

He took us to the attic, it was very large with several unlit candles, a red carpet that covered the entire area and several hunting objects hanging on one part of the wall. It was dark, his energy totally changed, or just returned to normal, I'm not sure, I just know that he attacked my mother by punching her face, her beautiful face…. I tried to stop it, but the only thing she said to me was "Run", and despite the instinct of a son to want to save his mother, fear spoke louder, I hid under a table that had other hunting weapons and from there I saw everything. As soon as she fell to the ground from the beating, he took an ax and was hitting her chest, repeating all the time: Blood, the house needs blood.

And that's what happened, I can't tell if the red I saw was the color of the carpet or the blood of the woman who gave me life, because with each blow he took, more and more blood came out. I did nothing but cry, and even though he knew I was there he didn't do anything to me, he was very focused on getting on with his work. He lit all the candles and put a Mozart song on a vinyl record. He started dancing with my mother, dead with her face swollen and her body bloodied. I walked down the attic stairs smearing them with my mother's blood and headed towards the back door that was in the kitchen, with embarrassed eyes. The last thing I saw when I turned around was a girl my age walking up the stairs. from the attic and seeing his father dancing with a woman would be beautiful if she weren't dead.

-I didn't know you were there, I heard two people, but I thought…

-He had killed me too? Of course, she was so engrossed in watching what was in that attic that she didn't realize someone had seen her from the kitchen.

-It makes no sense for you to want to fight me over this. - I spoke with boredom plastered on my face

-What's your problem? Because of that, seriously? Does it seem like a little to you?

We started an argument, and he came at me. I tried to defend myself but we fell and he was already hitting me. I grabbed a piece of log that was beside me and hit him on the head, again and again, I couldn't stop, until the air left him.

At the end of it all, the police arrived and investigated the situation. Connor's death came out as self-defense, as there was a camera on top of the house on the lake that managed to capture the scene, despite the distance. The police saw that he was the one who came at me and knocked me down, all I had left was to defend myself.

But what they didn't see was, after the blows I gave him on the head... I loved him so much and we never had a moment together, so despite the weight of his body, I tried to hold him to my shoulder, and danced a little. beautiful waltz to the sound of the forest and the waterfall that surrounded us, the wind hit my face and I could smell the woody smell of blood, it would be beautiful... if he wasn't dead, but no problem, I didn't care."

-When she finished telling her story, the only thing I could say was:

-Do you regret it?- she looked deep into my eyes and the answer I received was a loud and sarcastic laugh.