Welcome back to the Ugly Truth.
I promised myself a break after “date days” and i indeed took it.
i have started work on another series but that should start next week.
Today i have a friend and highly intellectual writer gracing my blog.
Pardon me for the depth of the Post. i am sure you will figure it out :D
Its @MegaPar. Enjoy
She hugged him tightly.
Maybe if she held tight enough she could generate enough heat to reach down into the depth of his soul. Some warmth.
Why did he have to do this?
She had seen him before. Strutting around the camp with his young daughter. Laughing. They had walked over to the meadow and he had picked out daises and made a garland for her hair. He had tickled her and she had laughed. A laugh that it seemed only children could have. An innocent laugh. One not yet aware of the perils of the world. The hate. The unfounded fear that haunts one as soon as they reach puberty.
The girl had spoken in German but she knew enough to catch her say “I love you, Father. He had then kissed her on her forehead and called her his angel”.
They seemed so happy. They seemed like people. He seemed like he had a heart.
Maybe if she held him tight enough he could remember how to use it.
She fell to the floor. Blood pouring out off her nose.
“Choose!” He shouted.
“I can’t” she cried in-between bubbles of blood from her now broken nose. She didn’t even notice.
He held her life behind her. Her reason. Her definition. Her babies.
Born almost a minute apart. The delivery was almost painless. They were her angels. They had not complained when they had to wear jewish stars to school. Not caused any trouble when she could find no food in the harsh French winter as they tried to escape the tyranny that had descended on their home.
“Choose one of them” He screamed again, spittle spraying against her face.
It reminded her of the sea breeze. Back when life made sense. Back when people were people.
“I can’t! “ She screamed.
“Just kill me please but spare my children.”
“You can’t make me choose”
Her angels. Even now they comforted her. Told her not to worry. Told her it would be alright. Said they would wait for her with Michael in heaven.
He reached for his holster. Pulled out an instrument made solely for the distribution of death. He held it to her temple.
It was cool. Cold. Solid. There. More real than anything you could ever imagine.
She laughed. Right before you die you can feel everything. Your senses go into overdrive as they try to collect as much data before they are forever laid-off. Put to stable. Like old race horses turned into glue.
Is this the way it was going to end? On a dusty road? In front of her children?
Her last thought before her brains hit the pavement were,
“He has a nice bulge though”
Have you ever had a perception about someone or something prove to be false when you meet and have relations with them?
Have you had to sacrifice yourself for things/people so dear to you?
What did you make of this piece?
I really need you to share your thoughts using the comment box.