Thursday, May 17, 2007

Greed,Remorse,War and Death!


He was standing outside his enemies Embassy. The buildings white walls and glass facade glittered in the autumn sun and almost blinded him for a second. It's glaze staring down at him as if wanting to sear through his soul. The thought made him feel a chill in the warmth that was that sunny day. No wind blew, not a leaf rustled in that stillness. Every second seemed to pass by slower than the last. An impeding doom seemed to stare over his head.

His grip around the briefcase tightened more than before. It was more important than his whole life's worth. he could not let anything happen to it at any cost. The black baggage represented a symbol of vengeance. a sign of angst and retaliation. No stone had been left unturned for this one time. The device inside was going to deliver justice tonight. All his enemies owuld be shaken with just one blow to their heart. The building seemed to look through him again. He felt uncertain.

But then the words of his commander flashed through his mind again.
These people had betrayed the holy cause of all men on earth and death was their final punishment 'on earth'. The kind lord would give them their final verdicts to hell once they were served to him. And that was his duty. To bring them to justice and do the work of his god on earth so that the beauty of his lord may shine upon the faces and hearts of millions who never knew his true nature.

This one task was his to complete and justice would be delivered. He should not fail.

He could not fail.

He would not fail.


A sudden darkness erupted in the sky as some clouds rushed to cover up the sun. It's features hidden by the clouds but not blocked as they filtered around the edges of the cloud.

The pistol was heavy. It had just one bullet. He would not get time to use a second anyway. The single bullet would spread his message. no, not his message. it would work as the messenger of god, riding on its golden wings of fire to all the people in all the worlds. he was the tool and bullet was the key to unlock and spread the message.

A car zoomed very close by as he crossed the road. He had to be more careful. If only they had given him some training. All he knew was to pull the trigger. He did not need to learn to take aim at such a situation. All that he had done for the last one week was to sit and pray in his cabin and listen to the words of his commander.
"The work of God is above all else, God resolves himself in all that is right and needs to be done. Do what you can to save his world."
He came closer to the steel and glass doors. Those revolving gates that would be the last he crossed before his arrival upon heaven. Death, he had heard was just another adventure. It made him smile. That line always did, specially in the last week.

Now the doors were just a step or two away. Before he entered he stopped and took everything into account. His time for duty and vengeance was here. Today he would do something that would spread the message of his war everywhere. An act so unique that everyone would have to listen or they would die of frustration and curiosity. It was a foolproof plan. Success would be in his hands, in it's own way.

A cool breeze welcomed him as he opened the door. It took him into another world. A world he had once belonged to. A snowy hill covered in frost and alpines. The chilling wind blew int his face. He and the other woodcutters were all working hard to earn their pay that night. The festival was very close by and everyone wanted to buy more things for and with their family.

Taking a break he sat down on one of the felled logs and looked down the hill at the smal lvalley that was his hometow. A quiet paradise untouched by the crimes against humanity. A small paradise where life was simple and happy. A town with its small quiet river that bubbled from inside the hill and divided the town right into two. The small open field where the little children came to play everyday after school. the town market where even now the hawkers were busy setting up their makeshift shops and stalls. The ladies parlour where all the women would go bustling in as chattering little monkeys and come out looking all the same but oh so much better.
The bakery with its wooden chimney that filled the whole square with a taste of sweet-bread and water in the mouth.
How the wind used to caress its lovely little trees and blow the soft smoke over every other house.

It was a happy town.

Until that hideous evening where the setting sun was casting feelings of great sorrow and loneliness at his heart. He did not know why. His wife and son waited for him to bring the buying money home and they would buy new clothes for the Festival and then show them off the other day. The whole town was just waiting to burst with joy and excitement. All the lumberjacks were working extra hard. Everyone wanted to get an extra log of wood more so that they could buy a new cap for themselves or a new dress for the wife or maybe even a second toy for their child. Everyone had heir dreams that evening.

The bombs came one after the other. The sudden blast took everyone by such surprise that they did not notice they had just gone deaf because of the blast.
Then came more. One after the other more blasts came and the whole town was rippe into pieces. The men on the hill watched as their lives were torn apart by those lights and sounds in front of their eyes. Their dreams lost.

He rushed down the slope, falling a million times on that rocky slope, never noticing all the cuts and bruises he amassed. Never in a state of mind to recognise the path that would safely lead him down the slope from the otherside.

As he reached the bottom the charred remains of his little town stared at his face. The Smell of burning and blasted powder filled the air and an eerie silence filled the town as the men fell on the ground. Broken men. They did not know if they were too numb to cry or that they couldn't hear their own sobs because of the deafness of the blast.

He wounded his way through the smoking debris and came to the field that used to join his home. Out in the garden he could see something. As he entered he looked down near the garden fence and saw splatters of red allover. his son's charred body lay next to his wifes. Both in a tight hug. Holding each other. their bodies black from the blasts. They had stood exactly where they had been every night, awaiting his return, smiling and warm. Now they lay cold and dead.

The memory of that night was still fresh in his mind. The newspaper had later said that the Righteous enemy had thought that his town had been a muilitary base and the surprise attack had been launched on the Dictatorial-Undemocratic-Terrorist-Rogue-Evil state to protect the world from The Nemesis that was his nation. So many tags. So many labels. So many excuses to gain more power and wealth.

He entered through the door. All his feelings of hatred had somehow dissapeared. what filled him now was remorse. remorse and sadness that he had died before her and him. He had to do their funeral rights. No man deserved to bid goodbye to his young son and wife as they made their way to the last warm embrace of the mother earth.

He checked his pocket. The note was still there. It had a small message.

"You destroyed my life, my town, my family. I have nothing to live for. My Blood is on your hands. That one self-righteous nation has destroyed everything i stood for. Goodbye."

The security check was in front of him. It could easily detect a gun. It wouldn't. Feet's away from it he stopped.

Opened his suitcase.
Took out the pistol.
Took aim.
And shot himself.

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Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Zaya




The ID tag around her neck read

Name - Unknown
Description - Suicide Victim

she walked further on the road to the sound of crashing waves. her long black hair swayed in the warm summer night. The din of crashing waves in the distance told her that she had to walk that way.
She did not remember how she had gotten to the hospital, she still wore the white gown she had woken up in.
as she walked on she tore away the bandage at her wrist and the wounded wrist started bleeding again. Looking at it with contempt she cursed out slowly, it hadn't served its purpose, she was still alive, whats the use of slitting your wrist if you have to live through the pain and not die.
a bat swung over her head, good, a sign of darkness.

her life had always been black, from an abused childhood to a darker adulthood. hate had been the only other constant. she hated her parents, her brother, her friends, the betrayers, her boyfriend.........everyone. they all deserved her hate, some weren't even worth her wrath.
scars from all those days still covered her body and the last one was the only one she had given herself. all trophies of the curse hurled upon her on her birth.

She remembered one night, she had been hiding under the stairway, her mother came looking for her with a broom and beat her black and blue for breaking a plate. cursing "why were you even born, we were so better off without you, you little wretch, piece of the devil"

she wished shed never been born at all, ah the ecstasy of that thought. it made her laugh, laugh out loud.

anything that made her pain seem to shrink, anything that could make her happier, was but a joke. life was cruel to all, but specially to he. she was life favourite pet. playing around with her, making her cry, for endless nights and then getting beaten for crying. that was all life had ever been. and an endless circle of wrath, pain and death. death of emotions, death of feeling, death of happiness, death of smiling.

sorrow was too expensive for her to feel and pain to sticky to get rid of.

she laughed out again.

the road had almost come to an end. the large blue sea was right there in front of her.

climbing over the fence she slipped and tumbled down the edge. she never tried to save herself, pain was something she was so used to that a little more wouldn't affect her at all. making her way to the very edge of the rocks she started singing a song she had once heard
______________________

death will come one day

free us from these bonds
a dawn of glory
a release from pain

death will come one day
and free me of my bonds
____________________________


She stood atop the tallest rock, closest to the shore. so close that she could feel the spray of the waves on her bare feet. those feet were bleeding from the journey. cracked and ugly, their blood mingled with the sea, feeding it its share of hatered's food. the black waters leered at her as she pictured everyone who had made her life living hell.

Every face in order of when they had come, ending with her lover. she hated them all, all except one. him she dispised so strongly that words werent enough to explain that. he had made her a slave, her life hell. he had used her and thrown her. she was nothing, but a slave. she wasnt herself but n object of pleasure and utility.

oh she hated him too dearly to call it hate.

with one last look at the sky she said a prayer for the first time in her life. and then she jumped into the ice cold water. She awaited death with open arms.

___________________________________________________________________

as she drowned in the water her eyes became blurryfrom choking. her neck was collapsing. blood filled her insides, overflowing, pain engulfing her spirit. the end was near, and it was horrible. she felt as though a thousand hands were choking her and a million needles,ice-cold were pricking her everywhere. every part of her hurt, oh the pain. if this was death it couldnt be worth the pain.

her vision went out but at the last moment she thought she saw a light up in the heavens, shining at her, for her. she prayed again, not knowing what she did.

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To be ended...