Notes

“The crystal ice interrupted my soul from it's pattern of survival, the color the same of the sky on a cloudless day. They read between the lines of my heart and heard the silence that I spoke. I had seen those eyes from across the bar, aside from the sweating drunks and the raving alcoholics. She hadn't wanted to come home with me at first, but she did eventually, as they always do. I was always told I had a charismatic nature.

Her lips were ruby, as dark as the ring on her right ring finger. Her cheeks had turned the same color when I asked her if she was married; she told me no, it was her grandmothers when she died. After a few days of thought she had decided to not re-size it, and the only finger it fit was her ring finger. I told her I was sorry, and she laughed like the church bells when I offered her a drink. She refused to let me buy her a drink, but I did anyways: a malt scotch neat. That's what my father bought my mother when they met.

Her skin was flawless, like freshly fallen snow in a meadow, without blemishes or imperfections. It was smooth to the touch, and I felt her heartbeat when I touched her neck with my fingertips as I pushed her hair past her shoulder. Her frame was thin, and the weight that laid heavier around her middle gave her a fuller appearance. While others might be put off, I loved it. It was something to hold when I'd take her home.

I had spent months trying to find the perfect woman. They were either too short or too tall, or even too thin sometimes. I'd give them a chance but I always ended up showing them the backyard and telling them to go home. But finally, I found the perfect one. Only a week ago did I meet Juliana, but she was kind enough to stay with me in my home. Sometimes she laid on the couch, sometimes she sat in the kitchen, but she was lovely company in the end. She didn't eat much and she didn't talk much either, but the silence between us was enough. Many of my peers from high school had gotten married and some even had children of their own. My parents were disappointed that I hadn't settled down, but I was ecstatic to finally tell them I found the one!

Boy, were they happy to hear that. Immediately, my mother set a date to meet her, a dinner date. In the background my father sounded excited to meet her as well. I told them that we could have dinner at my small apartment room at the corner of First and Third, apartment 3B. The neighbors wouldn't bother us; usually residents stayed only for a few weeks before they left. Most were squatters, living in the empty rooms until supplies were gone. The date was set on the upcoming Friday.

When Friday night rolled around, I had cooked dinner myself with help from my lovely girlfriend. She seemed cold sometimes to the touch, but I laughed it off; it was usually cold this time of year anyways, and I kept the heating low so I didn't have to pay the ungodly high prices. I made chicken Parmesan with spicy tomato sauce instead of mild. The chicken kept in the juices, and it was tender in every angle. Everything was perfect, down to the diamond ring I made her wear to match the midnight black silk dress. The tablecloth was smoothed down, the bread comfortably rested in the basket, and the Parmesan cooled slowly until my parents arrived.

I greeted my parents when they showed, and I called for Juliana to come to the door. There wasn't a response, so I chuckled and kissed my mother on the cheek. “She's quite shy,” I said simply, to which my mother nodded with a smile. She understood; she had been shy when she met my father.

“Let's meet her, then.” My father stepped into my apartment, voice booming, looking around briefly. I lead them into the dining room. My mother gave a gasp when she saw Juliana, and I heard her step back with a click of her heels. I smiled widely. I knew she was beautiful, but to be gorgeous enough to surprise her? Wonderful! I looked back at the two, and my father gave a smile in my general direction. “Now, honey, how about we sit down and eat with our son and Juliana?”

My mother and him sat down across from Juliana and me, although my mother looked rigid and uncomfortable. I held my girlfriend's in mine, lacing her slender fingers with my rough, calloused hands. I worked in and out of jobs around the city, which mostly was dirty work, but Juliana didn't mind. With my free hand I ate the Parmesan and drank the Sangria wine I bought specifically for the occasion. Everyone else barely touched their plates, but I finished all of mine, and even had seconds. About halfway through, my mother got up, and told me she was going to call Aunt Sandra and tell her all about Juliana. I showed her to the small room in the back with the best reception, the room that Juliana had originally stayed in. I apologized for the small mess; she wasn't very clean like I was.

After five or so minutes of her gone and my father and I talking about my girlfriend and my future, the doorbell rang. I never got visitors. It must have been my lucky month! When I opened it, two men dressed as policemen stood in front and told me I had to come with them. I told them I didn't want to, and they pushed me down, forcing my hands behind my back in a very uncomfortable position. I tilted my head, resting my chin on the hardwood floor, and I watched my mother come out of Juliana's room. One of the policemen went past me and the second policeman, looking towards her gestured hand to where the dining room was. “Jesus Christ,” I heard him murmur before he escorted my mother out of my apartment. I was so confused, so afraid. What were they doing in my house? Why was I being arrested?

I tried to stand, but I was only shoved downwards by the second policeman. I accidentally bit my tongue when he did that, but I knew better than to say something to him. I watched a group of them yesterday beat a boy senseless for saying a curse word just the other day from my window, and I knew better. Only did I say something when my father was lead towards the front door behind me. I asked him if Juliana was okay. He didn't answer me, only watching me for a moment before he sighed softly. The look in his eyes was one that I remembered from my childhood, the same one that he gave when I broke Aunt Sandra's window with a stick after I had tried to explain that I was only trying to kill a pesky rat. It was filled with disappointment.

Soon after he left I was pulled out of my apartment by the two policemen and forced into a police car's backseat. I didn't look out the window for a long time, but when I did, I saw them taking Juliana out on a gurney. But I knew better than to protest. It was two weeks after that before I saw my parents again. The glass wall between us wasn't noticeable after a while, and I didn't feel trapped in the small guarded room as we spoke. That is, I mean, until I was told I was on death sentence for the first-degree murder of Juliana Martinez.”