He shakes his head. Feels his heart slowing in his chest. It doesn’t remember how to pump, so he hits it, hard. “I love you,” he says.
Her eyes water. He thinks that means she’s sad, but he can’t really tell. Monsters don’t act like normal people. “I love you, too,” she answers. “Now give me the key.”
Are you lonesome, just like me?
Connie, did you know? Gladys asks. Maybe it’s coming from him. Maybe it’s her ghost.
“Yes, I knew,” he whispers. “So did you.”
Behind the bars, Delia licks her lips. “The key.”
He doesn’t remember his name anymore, or this woman before him. All that is left is the emotion underneath it, and instinct.
“Now, Dad.”
He fires the shotgun. His aim is true.
Then he turns the shotgun on himself, but it is too long and his fingers won’t obey him, so he drops it.
The young woman lies motionless while blood pools around her. He thinks about the color blue as he reaches through the bars that will now separate them for an eternity, and squeezes her fingers. She squeezes back as if she is relieved, and then lets go.
In sadness he can no longer comprehend, his heart tears itself into wings and flaps blood. It is a caged bird in there, that has shred itself inside-out but still can’t get free.