The White That Kills (eBook)

Shkelzen Marevci (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
233 Seiten
Publishdrive (Verlag)
9780000810052 (ISBN)

Infos

Gripped by panic and deeply saddened by a feeling I had never experienced before, I suddenly wanted to free myself at any cost from that noose that was slowly choking me-but it seemed impossible. I tried every possible way, even prayed silently in my mind, because words had failed me; I had no voice left. A heavy, troubling feeling had overtaken me as I struggled with the uncontrollable movements of my arms and legs. My breathing had become labored and had nearly stopped altogether. My mouth was completely filled with foam, and it felt like my eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. I tried to lift the chair I had kicked away just two minutes earlier, desperate to escape that rope tied around my neck, tightening like a python...

Textauszug

The Second Part

Fragment from the lives of Linda and Beli:

 

1

The people we associate with are no different from us. They are mirrors, reflections of our own desires, weaknesses, and dreams. It’s impossible to form a true bond with someone who doesn’t share your vision of the world. Alignment of thoughts is not just important, it’s essential in human relationships. The saying, “Show me who you hang out with, and I will tell you who you are,” captures the essence of connection — a silent agreement, a shared language between souls.

“Oh my God, my head hurts. We overdid it last night.”

Exhaustion had swallowed Zana whole. Her voice, barely a whisper, betrayed the reckless indulgence of the night before. She was half-awake, her mind muddled, her body on the edge of collapse. Yet, her words were drenched in the memories of the wild night she and her friends had shared, a night without boundaries, without thought — a celebration of chaos.

“If it had only been last night, it wouldn’t be so bad, but we do this every day, every night.”

“Come on, we’re still young. When we hit forty, then we’ll start thinking about settling down, about families and the future. Right now, I just want to live. I want sex, alcohol, and drugs. What else is there?”

Vali spoke with a freedom that felt like a rebellion against time itself. She was the embodiment of youth unshackled, seeing the world through a lens of boundless possibility, where there were no rules, only desires to be fulfilled. For her, life was about experience — to live and to feel, without hesitation.

“You’re right. Let’s leave everything behind. We won’t take anything with us.”

Zana, too, wore a similar coat of abandon. The moral veil had been torn to shreds long ago, leaving only raw impulses and the need for instant gratification. It wasn’t just a lifestyle; it was their creed.

“No, no, don’t say that. Vali, you’re thirty-three, and we’re barely in our mid-twenties. We’re not as young as we think. Maybe it’s time we step back a little from all this.”

“Oh, God. Who’s lecturing me about morals now? Shut up, and don’t act like you know better. You’ve only just joined us, and already you’re trying to tell us how to live. Don’t talk to me about honor.”

Blerta, quieter, more reserved, felt a pang of discomfort as Linda spoke of stepping away from the reckless lifestyle. Her words, though hesitant, echoed through the room like the last whispers of a dying conscience. But despite their differences, the three women were alike in their hunger for something to fill the emptiness inside them. Zana and Vali had long crossed every line, while Blerta, though more restrained, was on the same path, slowly sinking into the same darkness.

Vali was a person who had lost herself completely. She was no longer bound by any moral compass. A gram of hashish, a sip of alcohol — these were enough to set her soul on fire, and she would chase that flame all night long, pushing herself to the brink of oblivion. In her world, the word “morality” was a relic of another life, one she had long discarded. Zana wasn’t far behind, a woman enslaved by alcohol, her body slowly deteriorating, but still reaching for more. Cigarettes, sex, drugs — these were the things that kept them alive, or at least, they thought they did.

Linda, however, had always felt the weight of their choices, though she never had the courage to break free. She felt trapped in a world of her own making, where conscience screamed in vain, buried under layers of self-deception. But in the end, there was no escaping the pull of the life she was living.

Linda’s father was a shadow, a man whose presence darkened every corner of their home. He worked as a guard at a public company, but his true occupation seemed to be gambling and drinking away whatever little money he earned. His salary, when it wasn’t lost in a card game, was spent in bars, and his cruel hands often came home to find their mark on Linda and Beli. He was a storm that tore through their lives, leaving nothing but destruction in his wake.

Linda’s mother, fragile and weak, suffered from diabetes, but her husband’s indifference ensured she never got the care she needed. Beli, desperate to help, would take whatever small jobs he could find, only for their father to take every penny to feed his vices. Their mother’s health, already fragile, deteriorated further as she withered under the constant abuse — physical, emotional, and psychological.

Linda and Beli lived in a nightmare, a world where their father was the architect of their suffering. He had stolen their childhood, their joy, their hope. He was the reason their mother was dying, and the reason they could never escape the suffocating grip of despair.

As Richard M. Devos once said, “A positive atmosphere breeds a positive attitude, which is needed for taking positive actions.” But their father was poison — every word, every action, an attempt to drain whatever life remained in them.

Beli, two years older than Linda, was already beginning to feel the weight of the world press down on him. One afternoon, after finishing his shift and receiving his paycheck, their father had gambled away half of it and spent the rest on alcohol. In his stupor, he was unable to stand, and two people had to help him back to the house. This was routine.

Later that night, after their father had passed out from drinking, he woke up to his losses — the money gone, the bitterness consuming him. At around 3 a.m., he began yelling, blaming and hitting Linda’s mother with greater fury than ever before. Linda lay in the next room, beside Beli, while their parents’ quarrel unfolded.

From the other room, Linda heard her mother’s hoarse cries, each blow a sharp echo in the silence of the night. Beli, his heart pounding, his fists trembling with rage, stood up, his body vibrating with helplessness and fury.

“This bastard of a father is going to destroy us all. Our poor mother, she’s taken more beatings than food. And we’ve suffered too. It’s chaos, Linda. Chaos!”

His voice cracked with sorrow, a sound too deep for his age. Linda could hear the pain in his words, see it in his face as he paced back and forth. She knew him well enough to see the storm brewing in his eyes — the same eyes that had always been calm, always searching for peace. But tonight, there would be no peace.

Linda felt the dread in her chest tighten, knowing that once Beli reached their parents’ room, things could escalate beyond control. He wasn’t the type to provoke conflict, but when the tipping point came, he became someone else — someone dangerous.

Desperate, Beli threw open the door, his fists clenched. The house was eerily quiet for a moment before his voice shattered the silence.

“Open the door, or I’ll break it down — and I’ll break you with it.”

His words were a promise, a threat born of rage and desperation. It was the first time he had ever dared to confront their father like this, and it was clear that nothing, not even fear, would stop him now. Behind that door, their mother was already bruised, broken, her body a testament to their father’s cruelty.

In the chaos that followed, Beli stepped forward, a rush of anger pushing him toward their father. His face was ashen, his hands trembling as he landed the first blow. The fight was brutal, primal, and desperate.

Linda stood frozen, caught between them. She could hear her mother’s weak cries, see the blood and sweat mixing in the chaos of their home. In the end, it was Beli’s grief that drove him to stop. With tears streaming down his face, he pulled away, his body heavy with the weight of what had just occurred.

He knelt beside their mother, kissing her bruised eye, as Linda sat beside him, both of them caught in the silence that followed. The house was in ruins, much like their lives, but the echo of their suffering would linger long after the violence had ended.

 

2

“Love your mother while she smiles, and her eyes glow with the warmth of the world. And when her voice touches your soul, pure as tears from holy water, love her still. She is the only one who loves you unconditionally, who waits for you endlessly. She will always forgive you and understand you.” – Beli often whispered these words to Linda, speaking of their mother with a tenderness that only a son could carry. He made it a habit to visit his mother and sister, but always when their father was absent. He knew the rhythm of his father’s movements—when he was home and when he wasn’t. He knew the nights when his father worked, the shifts that allowed him to slip into the house undetected. Whenever his father was gone, Beli would sneak in like a shadow, seeking the warmth of his mother’s embrace.

But for Linda, the wound of losing her only son festered in ways no one could understand. Her health faltered, sinking into further decline as the weight of her grief ravaged her body. She withered away, a fragile figure trapped in the prison of her own sorrow. Perhaps, because their encounters had become so rare, even though they lived under the same roof, the attacks from their father became less frequent. But the insults, the shouting, the coldness—they never ceased. And sometimes, when the alcohol drowned his judgment, his violence would erupt, shaking the very foundation of their fragile existence.

Eight months after Beli had left, Linda was a shadow of herself. Her health had deteriorated to a point where it seemed nothing could save her. One morning, as the sun’s gentle rays kissed the earth, Linda...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 22.5.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-13: 9780000810052 / 9780000810052