SHORT STORY ANTHOLOGIES | RESURRECTION

The world changed when people began to return from the dead, many prophesied that the apocalypse was near and that the "resurrected" were the warning message for the day of judgment. Among them were my father-in-law and my friend, who had died several years ago, coming back to us full of happiness.

However, things were not as beautiful as I am apparently stating at the beginning. My wife missed her father very much and seeing him again was something that set her heart on fire, but I was not very happy actually. I couldn't support my father-in-law and the way he wanted to break into my marriage, it seemed that was his only goal after coming back from the dead.

One day, after he had moved in with us, he started to emphasize how we led our lifestyle; he didn't like seeing my wife as a housewife, he didn't like that I was so forgetful in everyday things, he didn't like that Diana, our teenage daughter and his granddaughter, was so distant and went out with her friends; it was a constant sea of criticism and impossible to support.

If Julia, my wife, decided to be a housewife, it was because she decided to be one. I never prevented her from looking for a job, even though economically we would have been better off, but the need did not warrant it. I had strong confrontations with my father-in-law. Every time I came home, he wanted to change something; more suggestive comments, more unbearable criticism.

My wife did nothing, several times I had asked her to talk to him, but she turned a blind eye. She didn't care to even think that our marriage was in jeopardy because of her father's poisonous words. I went so far as to enter a circle of anxiety: "I wish that old bastard had stayed dead," I thought with all the longing in my heart.

One night, to relieve my stress away from home, I had a few beers with my friend Lucas, who had also returned from the dead. I told him about my situation with my father-in-law and how overwhelming it was for me, and he gave me a lurid idea that sent shivers down my spine.

I looked at him with wild eyes, "Eliminate the old man?" "But what madness!" the very idea of thinking about it caused me abhorrence, at first; however, after further thought, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. If I sent him to an asylum or some other place of shelter, my wife would object and our marriage would probably end, besides, Lucas asserted that death was not such a terrible thing, that after falling into it you feel an infinite peace that envelops you.

With these arguments he convinced me even more, and we made the plan that same night. We took tools, went to my house late that night. We anesthetized the old man with formaldehyde. We tied him up and silently took him away. We dug a hole a hundred meters from my house. We placed him inside a wooden box and buried him alive. I was a little sorry for the old man's plight, but then I remembered all the despair he put me through and gladly gave him up.

Three days after that my wife was still sad about her father's disappearance. She said it all seemed strange to her but I didn't pay much attention to her. I was quiet on my couch that evening watching TV until someone knocked on the door. When I opened it, my eyes widened to the limit in fright; it was the old man covered in dirt and with red eyes wrapped in anger.