That Robert Dench had such great admiration for himself was perhaps not such a strange phenomenon. It is not that rare that some people have overly high opinions of themselves, even if they have no clear reason for that.
Perhaps in Robert Denche’s case it was really just too much. He would, timely and untimely, with or without the slightest provocation, launch into an ode about his own extraordinariness.
Dench had developed the habit of talking to himself. Another habit he had acquired when still young, was that he had created a character, or alter ego if you wish, with whom he conducted constant conversations. It was not long before this alter ego began to bear the blame for all Denche’s mistakes. In this way he himself never took any blame for his mistakes.
It is easy to understand that Robert Dench had never experienced much success in marriage, nor did he ever had any close friendship. He did marry once, but it had lasted for only five years.
During his married life he did not need to blame his alter ego as he could put all the blame on his wife. He even blamed her for the fact that they did not succeed in producing a child, although it had been established that the fault was on his side.
Directly after his divorce, he started blaming his alter ego again. Only now it seemed as if he had become twice as bitter and scathing towards this phantom.
After about two years of being single again, he, after a day of suffering exceptionally painful humiliations and failures, felt so bitter and enraged that he could not sleep at all. By midnight he had blamed everyone that he knew for his unhappiness until he could think of no one else.
He could only keep hitting out at his cursed alter ego in an attempt to rid him of a stupid and vexing feeling that he himself might just be responsible for his own unhappiness.
While he was lying in bed, cursing, insulting, blaming the phantom, suddenly two hands, like two clamps, locked around his neck.
He struggled to get up to switch on the light in the hope that it would make the ghostly attacker disappear, but to no avail.
Desperately he tried to think of another way to survive, but by then he had become so used to blaming others that he only tried to protest his innocence. Yet not a sound was able to get past the increasing pressure around his neck.
When daylight entered the room, Dench was lying on his back
On his face, with a ghastly blue hue over it, there was a frozen grimace, but on his body and neck not the slightest mark could be seen.
(464 Words)
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