My Beloved Oppressor

’t decided yet, but anywhere……”

 

“Do you think I would listen to that? Where do you think you’re going?”

 

“Think about it.”

 

The spoon that had been circling in the soup stopped.

 

“When did I start asking your permission for every single thing?”

 

Her downcast eyes did not look at him.
She murmured quietly.

 

“I know what you’re thinking.”

 

With those last words, Annette said no more.
Heiner also stopped talking.
Silence once again descended.

 

Scooping her food, she finally emptied a third of it and put down her spoon.

 

“I can’t eat it.”

 

 “I’m sure people who starve for a few days eat better than that.”

 

 “How could I miss it when you’re monitoring me so closely? It’s going to make me sick to my stomach.”

 

With a low sigh, Heiner stood up.
As he walked toward the door, his steps stopped for a moment.
He turned his head slightly and spoke as if warning.

 

“…If I hear you refuse to eat one more time, I will consider it a psychotic eating disorder and put you in the hospital.”

 

No reply came back.
Annette looked down at her soup with a completely emaciated face.

 

Heiner clenched his fists and opened the door roughly.

 

****

 

Long legs crossed the room.
Entering his room, Heiner placed the medicine chest on the desk and then turned the dial on the telephone.

 

It wasn’t long before the other end picked up.

 

[Yes, this is Arnold Berkell.]

 

“It’s Heiner Valdemar.
I’m sorry to call you in the evening, Dr.
Arnold, can I talk to you for a moment?”

 

[Oh, Sir, it’s all right.
How can I help you?]

 

“I have one drug I would like to know the name of.

It was the medicine you prescribed for my wife.
It’s small, circular, white, and in the middle has the letters S, Z, and 5 on it.”

 

[S, Z—oh, that’s Sinazel.]

 

“Is it a stabilizer?”

 

[Yes.
I usually prescribe sleeping medication.
And that’s for the madam.]

 

“…okay, thank you.
Then see you next time.”

 

[Yes, Your Excellency, have a peaceful evening].

 

Putting down the phone, Heiner rested his hands on the desk and caught his breath for a moment.
A deathly silence flowed in the dark room.

 

In his dark vision, the medicine chest was so white that it hurt his eyes.
Its surface seemed to overlap with Annette’s pale face.

 

Heiner snatched the medicine chest from the desk and tossed it into the trash can.

 

‘Not even funny.’

 

Gloomily, he turned and walked toward the closet.
He took off his gray coat, hung it on a hanger, and unbuttoned his shirt.

 

Collecting pills was a behavioral sign of people contemplating death.
However, Heiner had never thought that Annette was seriously considering suicide.
It would just be a habit for psychological comfort.

 

Annette was a timid and weak woman.
She didn’t have the courage to die.

That was why she trembled so much in the public opinion in the newspapers or in front of the piano.

 

She knew nothing about drilling, beatings, torture, hunger, or the sensation of murder ——.
She felt terrible misery at such a mere thing.

 

Heiner wasted the whole time unbuttoning.
But he didn’t care.
He looked at the full-length mirror in front of him with an insensitive look on his face.

 

A gloomy man with dark gray eyes was trapped in the glass.

 

“The more I look, the more I think about it, but I think you have really beautiful eyes.”

 

 “My eyes? It’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

 

“Really? No way, you are so beautiful.
I like your eyes the most out of all your features.”

 

“Are the other places not as good?”

 

“It can’t be! I have high eyes.
I never take a man who isn’t handsome as my lover.”

 

 “Oh my, I would have liked you even if you weren’t pretty.”

 

“Does that mean I’m pretty anyway?”

 

“You are the most beautiful person in the world.”

 

Eyes filled with love softened.
He locked eyes with Annette’s blue eyes.
A spring breeze blew from the distance.
Dazzling golden hair fluttered.
A clear laugh followed, spreading like petals.

 

Where the illusion had passed, only a desolate gray zone remained.
Heiner closed his eyes for a long time and opened them.
It was reality again.

 

‘I’m glad you’re unhappy.’ 

 

Heiner murmured to himself.

 

‘You should despair as much as I despaired. You must lose as much as I have lost.
Because you were there in my unhappy moments, I must be there in yours.
As much as my life has been so long and dark, so should yours.’

 

Heiner took off his shirt.
Only the sound of clothes rustling in the silence filled the room.
The mirror, half buried in darkness, reflected his wide shoulders and chest, tightly knit with muscles.

 

The upper part of his chest was inscribed with official letters in a messy handwriting.
Tangled with red marks were the remains of a fallen shape.

“I’M A RENT BOY OF PADANIA.”