The Red House - Tchaloco Mo

THE RED HOUSE...........................

by Tchaloco Mo 

Actuality of time.
the streets are
quiet,the birds
chasing after
the wind,the
kids pack their
toys,parents
rushing them
home.........
the streets are
filled with fears.
the smell of guns
powders run the
avenues.........
the place that use
to ressemble to
the sea,now,looks
more like a volcano.
i step down to my
door,cross to the
otherside.enter
the red building.
behind the door
the smoke of weed
knocked me off my
foot.catch my breath.
on my left,three
people are laughing,
on my right,a stair..
on the wall,there are
three pictures.......
all identical,back
grounded in black
with a red mark.
in the top-left
corner..............
i keep on walking
with every steps
getting heavy and
heavier;the sweat
dripping under my
shirt,my underwear
is getting wet....
when i look left,
the floor was cover
in red,a river of
blood,running down
the hallway..........
She,my onetime
friend,seating down
in a the couch;half
way dressed;motionless
staring straight at
the door but she was not
moving.the closer i get,
the details are coming.
in her room,on my left,
a splash of red paint
on the wall.............
at my right,the back
of her head,making
way to a big hole!
she died inside the
little red house............