It was there.
Even though I hadn’t seen it yet, I knew in my gut, it was somewhere there.
I could feel its presence, as it lurked about, changing places with swift movement. Trying desperately to fit in where it doesn’t belong, disguising itself with whatever it touched. If not belong then hide, behind anything and everything it found.
And suddenly, there was a glimpse of green in the blink of an eye.
There it was.
Glistening and glowing in all its greenness, dangerously sloping its way towards me,
picking up speed, and charging like the bravest warrior on the battle field.
I raised my weapon, and before it attacked, I pierced it through and through. Shock and realization dawned as a sense of victory slowly creeped in. It was defeated, and there was no better feeling in the world. It was under my command now, and the only thing I could think of was getting it out of my sight.
And out of my biryani.
Goddamn pea.
There it was.
Lying limp in front of me.
Almost lifeless already, and I hadn’t even begun yet.
Clear skin called out to me, like an empty canvas. The beauty of it almost impossible to get over.
But it wouldn’t last.
Seeing crimson ooze out, painfully, slowly, was what I lived for.
Gut-wrenchingly I realize the damage I was about to do was irrevocable.
Irreversible.
And most definitely irresistible.
The delicately carved features of this human, were going to be flawlessly scarred by me. I could almost taste the terror of pressure settling in the silence of the room.
I had to be meticulous.
Careful. Perfect.
Gloves hiding my hands, a mask hiding my face, and my agenda hiding my intentions.
I felt my own heart pumping blood twice as fast. A fine layer of sweat started to form on the palms of my once steady hands. They now started quivering out of anticipation.
Nervousness engulfs me as I move to reveal its contents, like unwrapping a gift.
Excitement takes over as I appreciate the power to rip it open and embrace the mess that follows.
I control my trembling hands and get my head together. It’s time.
With sheer concentration on the body in front of me, I hold my hand out in a room full of interns observing my every move and say, “Pass me the scalpel”
They were there.
The twelve of them.
Scared.
Waiting.
Unaware of what to expect, and not wanting to fathom the terror that was to befall upon them.
Tension dripped from the foreheads of the young soldiers, as a wave of realization washed over them.
This is really happening.
In the small confined room, the shrill of silence ate at their eardrums. Their rapidly increasing breaths, synchronized to sing the song of doom.
Ever so slowly, eyes were raised and eye contact was made.
The same thought ran through each and every mind – Why us?
Muscles so stiff, they started to hurt. Hearts beating so fast, they threatened to burst. Hollowness seeped in each gut, it felt like an abyss. Being able to maintain their consciousness, was no less than punishment. Desperation caused wild imaginations and yet no courage.
Before anybody had the audacity to open their mouth to break the piercing peace, a thundering bang snapped them all back to the harshness of this reality.
Their reality.
Hearts stop beating, minds stopped working, and guts were wrenched.
The towering figure that appeared, authoritative and intimidating now held their lives in the palm of his hands.
He intensely stared into their eyes, as if judging their souls. The tick tock of the wall clock was suddenly the only sound reverberating in the room. That too seemed to be fading away as every second painfully passed. He turned to hear long held breaths being released behind him immediately. He smirked as he reached for his pocket. A sudden intake of breath took place in unison.
They saw his hand rise to reach for his weapon, and were instantly grateful that he wasn’t facing them. Predicting the future didn’t leave much to the imagination, but having to look at the equipment that meant their end would confirm the inevitable.
What followed was the burst of crimson.
Contours of the colour gushed and flowed across the surface of the white board forming the words
“Class test postponed to Sunday”
There I was.
Lying on the floor. Helpless.
I cracked open an eye to let the harsh light in.
I looked up to see the scorching sun blind me with its light.
I averted my gaze, trying to blink away the flashes of green that clouded my vision.
A never ending desert lay ahead of me, with nothing but the sand and its emptiness.
Without a fixed destination in mind, I started moving with great difficulty.
I perspired profusely as my muscles worked hard to move me inch by inch.
The air was as good as remnants of a fierce battle, between humidity and dryness.
I felt sticky and disgusted, feeble and fragile all at the same time. But I had to keep moving. There was no other option.
Even though my progress was slow, I knew I was moving. I never lost hope.
Time however, seemed to have come to a complete stop. Hours must have gone by, but it would be mere seconds ticking away.
Everything was so still that it might as well have been part of a painting. There wasn’t a single hint of movement from any direction.
And that’s when it came.
The ground started rumbling beneath me and I knew I was running out of time.
I tried to increase my pace, but crawling seemed to be the only means of escape.
The vibrations below me got bigger and faster and my panting was not helping. If not get away, the least I could do was hide in the sand for now.
I started scurrying towards the sand. Just as I reached out to the life-saving grains of sand, I heard a high-pitched scream right behind me.
I froze.
I couldn’t move a muscle in fear of what would happen next. My heart rate went from lightning speed straight to almost dying in a matter of milliseconds. The pace of footsteps behind me increased. Slowly my head turned to take in what came for me. A huge shadow was cast over my body, and I was finally able to open my eyes for the first time.
Except, I didn’t want to. I was too afraid. I shut my eyes tightly, not wanting to look death in the eye. There was no going back now. This was it.
The unavoidable end to a bug’s life.
There it was.
Right in front of him.
He usually had the self-control of a God.
But not today. Today he can hardly stop fidgeting.
Stealing glances had become a sort of routine now.
But today he had enough.
The need to liberate himself from this trap of frustration had suddenly become top priority. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Could hardly keep himself away.
To hell with patience.
Today he'd had enough, and yet, nothing at all.
The urgency to express himself is the only thing on his mind.
He steals a look and a flash of white greets him.
He feels his heart trying to burst out of his chest.
His blood pumps through his veins at an unimaginable rate. He fists his hands in a poor attempt to prevent himself from reaching out.
He becomes extra alert. Desire sears through his body as his anticipation increases. Awkward muscles in his body contract.
All the wrong places, at all the wrong times. How could so little have such a massive effect on him, he will never understand.
His brain is threatening to stop working entirely. He's afraid he might do something he'll regret. But it was about damn time.
His senses are starting to lose control one by one. 'If not now, then never' he keeps encouraging himself as he begins to move out of his chair.
Nervous energy engulfs him. What if he screws up at the last second? What if he's graced with yet another unwanted interruption?
His pace quickens, and his steps become bigger. He manages to catch
the closing door just in time. The relief of release awaits him on the other side of the door.
Where he can finally empty his bursting bladder in peace.
There it was.
Lying limp in front of me.
Almost lifeless already, and I hadn’t even begun yet.
Clear skin called out to me, like an empty canvas. The beauty of it almost impossible to get over.
But it wouldn’t last.
Seeing crimson ooze out, painfully, slowly, was what I lived for.
Gut-wrenchingly I realize the damage I was about to do was irrevocable.
Irreversible.
And most definitely irresistible.
The delicately carved features of this human, were going to be flawlessly scarred by me. I could almost taste the terror of pressure settling in the silence of the room.
I had to be meticulous.
Careful. Perfect.
Gloves hiding my hands, a mask hiding my face, and my agenda hiding my intentions.
I felt my own heart pumping blood twice as fast.
A fine layer of sweat started to form on the palms of my once steady hands. They now started quivering out of anticipation.
Nervousness engulfs me as I move to reveal its contents, like unwrapping a gift.
Excitement takes over as I appreciate the power to rip it open and embrace the mess that follows.
I control my trembling hands and get my head together. It’s time.
I turn to my only true friend, my guidance, my love, my knife.
Its make never failing to amaze me, and its results never failing me. Hovering it over his heart I see his constant struggle to stay alive. The pathetic rise and fall of his chest, in uneven patterns. I hold my knife in both hands now, and raise it like a sacred offering to the Gods.
And in a blink of an eye, it’s over.
It pierces his skin, his flesh, his heart.
And peace pierces me.
