I was on some heavy shit
Trying to numb the things I don’t want to admit
I attempted suicide
Though I tried
I could not go through with it
I was on some heavy shit
Trying to reason
Why I had to take so many hits
I’m ashamed to live with this
So I tried
I attempted suicide
Then light seeped in
Like a choir
A symbolic salvation
A kind liberation
And I was free
Mote it be
To know of rampage
At such a young age
What else could I have known?
And though I endure
I had to face more
I pray they one day atone
The light seeped in
Set me free
So mote it be!
The light seeped in
Help me see
So mote it be!
Took many beatings
Left me bleeding
They tried to break my soul
Because I’m damaged
Who’d want my baggage
Death can only make me whole
Then God stepped in
Delivering
A love that never ends
A home to be at ease
I made amends
Found my peace
The light seeped in
Set me free
So mote it be!
Oh God stepped in
Help me see
So mote it be!
Hands around my neck
Waking to a wreck
Me bleeding on the floor
Wishing I were dead
Knowing what’s ahead
I can’t take it any more
Then light seeped in
So serene
God came to me
To help me see
Set me free
So mote it be!
Monday, March 4, 2019
Sunday, January 6, 2019
Rich Men Dead
Red and blue lights swirled in the night as a crowd drew near to a home bordered with caution tape. Dispatchers radioed in with clues to the mystery while bystanders and neighbors kept an open ear. They wanted to leave, knowing they could be mistaken as a suspect, but their curiosity glued them where they stood. A murder, at first glance, brought the police out from their station accompanied by ambulances and firetrucks. A who done it was on everyone’s tongue, for what motive was the authorities to know.
Two detectives soon appeared to the scene of the crime. Their first instinct was to scout the perimeter then they proceeded to enter the home sealed off to the public. Once they were in, they were briefly informed of the incident; beginning with a phone call. As the detectives were caught up to the murder in question, they were presented to a man sitting by his desk. The man lay low as if he were fast asleep, the desk covered in blood. The man’s blood poured from a small wound pierced to the head.
There seemed to be no struggle or breaking of entry. To the detectives knowledge, there seemed to be nothing missing but the culprit. The detectives ruled out suicide though that were to be the police’s statement for the news reporters outside. The detectives did their best not to move anything as they carefully spread and looked around. They knew nothing of the dead man but had a clue as to who he might be. They moved about, jotting notes and clues. They were silent but inquisitive.
Judging from the man’s acquired taste in things, the detectives noticed, the man came from a wealthy family or at least made a very decent living. From the abundant state of the art flat screens decked in every room to the luxurious extended marble table, to the lavish art pieces, the man most certainly had everything an average person would dream of. How unfortunate he met his demise at such a moment of glory. The detectives did notice one peculiar aspect of the man, he had no family of his own.
There could be a million reasons as to why someone would want such a rich man dead. Having no offspring of their own narrows the list but broadens the motives. Who in deed would want someone dead? What enemies would a young wealthy bachelor have? Picture frames in silver and gold, big and small, told a tale of a kind and popular man. The man held his own as he stood with powerful giants. The detectives looked around for more clues. Clearly, they needed more information from the dead man. They only needed to ask a few questions to the right people.
The detectives trailed back to the dead man and examined with precision the scene of the crime. One detective stepped closer to the body. The dead man, it seemed, was concealing a stack of papers now covered in blood. The other detective noticed the dead man might have been working on a project, or at least it was meant to look that way. They stayed quiet for some time as they jot down last minute observations. In unison they closed their notepads and tucked them into their coats.
One detective took one last picture before they boarded their car. They sat patiently while taking one last look at the crowd. They noticed there were fewer people around; aside from the police, firefighters, medics and news reporters. They took mental notes of those who still lingered before finally leaving. “He was working on something big,” his partner began, “And the evidence is drenched in blood.” His partner agreed undoubtedly.
As the detectives worked on the case, miles away in a peaceful gated community, a neighborhood unaware of the recent events, were sound asleep; all but one home. A woman in her mid forties stood from her desk and closed a folder labeled, “Classified.” She held the folder to a filing cabinet, entered a series of codes, opened it and selectively placed the folder away. Her office disappeared behind her as she proceeded to turn off the lights. While her husband slept upstairs in their master bedroom, she roamed to the kitchen.
There, she fixed herself a light snack before joining her partner. Their home was wide and spacious with plenty of room to walk about. With a cup of hot chocolate in hand, she leisurely walked to the living room. Two large glass doors lead to the back yard. Lights emitting from inside the swimming pool lit the edges for safety. Silence rang in her ear as she marveled at her property through the glass. Her reflection mirrored an established woman with power and grace.
Deep in thought, a sudden rattle coming from the bushes caught her attention. The dog sniffed around to where she noticed a figure moving about. She placed her mug on a table beside her as she watched for any sign of intrusion. The dog disappeared into the bushes and she waited. She waited for the dog to bark, to alarm her of trouble but the dog never came out. The dog remained in the dark, silent. Calmly, she slid the glass door open and quietly whistled for her pet. The dog did not answer.
“Czar.” The woman called, slowly stepping away from the glass door. “Here boy!” She called and whistled as she looked through the darkness beyond her sight. The night settled in her eyes as her vision adjusted. She fixed her sight to where the dog had went and without notice two white glowing dots appeared. She screamed as she entered the house, locking the glass doors behind her. The two glowing dots formed into a figure as it stepped into the light. Through the glass, the woman stared at a tall man with unusual glowing eyes.
“Clive!” She screamed for her husband. With horror, the man outside ran through the glass door and chased after the woman. She ran to the living room then to another small private room, all while screaming for help. She made her way to the library, to the nearest phone she could find. She attempted to call for the neighborhood police but was derailed by the man with glowing eyes. She stood frozen in fear as she got a better glimpse of the strange being before her.
Unable to dial for the police, she managed to escape without falling in the hands of the intruder. “Clive!” She called as she ran up the stairs, the intruder followed behind. She entered the upstairs office and went straight for her cellphone. The man with glowing white eyes stood by the door. She turned and aimed her cellphone at the intruder as if it were a remote and the intruder was the TV. She opened an app and a red dot appeared. Before she could touch the screen, the man aimed his hand with his thumb up and two fingers pointed to her.
She was dead in an instant. Her body fell where it stood. Her phone dropped beside her with the red button in the center of the screen. The man stomped his heavy boot to the screen, shattering the cellphone to pieces. A hole through the woman’s head spilled blood all over the floor. The man with glowing eyes dropped his hand and proceeded to find Clive. Within minutes, Clive too found himself dead; shot through the head with no bullet in sight.
Like before, the detectives were sought to find the culprit. They examined the bodies, the struggle left behind from the murder but they still couldn’t find a clue as to who were behind the killings. One detective stepped outside to the backyard while the other lingered to the upstairs office. In the upstairs office, the detective began to piece the puzzle together or whatever clues he could make sense of the situation. The woman lay covered in a blood stained sheet with her phone, shattered to bits, beside her.
The detective took a small metal object from his coat and rummaged through the torn pieces. He was searching for the hard drive, a memory card, something to lead him to an answer. Was she calling for someone? Was she hiding something on her phone that her killer didn’t want anyone to know? Once he found what he was looking for, he began to look around. Nothing seemed missing or out of place. No sign of robbery or foul play, just a wealthy woman dead for what reasons he was going to find out.
As he circled the office, a piece to the puzzle appeared before him. Mounted on a wall, framed in gold, a picture caught his attention. In the picture, a group of friends gathered together in smiles. At first glance, one would suspect they were celebrating a cause or capturing a moment of bliss before they disband but as the detective took a closer look he began to understand the mystery behind the sudden murders.
To one side, the recently deceased woman stood happy with her friends as she embraced them for a group photo. Beside her, the man they first encountered when they were given the case stood by; smiles and all. It was clear to the detective that they not only knew each other but they were also colleagues. The photo they took together, along with seven other unknown people, wasn’t just a random group picture. They were capturing the moment they began their project for a corporation. A project some would deem inhumane.
With his phone in hand, the detective made a call. Red flags surrounded him as he began to understand the motives behind the murders. How could something so simple be hiding in plain sight? The detective took a picture of the scientist celebrating the beginning of a revolutionary pursuit and proceeded to find his partner. “Fierros.” The detective called to his partner. Outside in the backyard, his partner stood by the bushes as he jotted down notes. “I think it’s time we head back.” The detective paused, not wanting to seem suspicious.
“I sense an irregularity in your tone.” Fierros replied. “Is something troubling you Detective Zau?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” His partner answered. “We do need to head back to headquarters.”
The ride back was uncomfortable to say the least. Detective Zau knew something but was cautious not to reveal much. The sensitive information he kept from his partner could spark an out cry of discrimination and controversy. He remained silent for the remainder of the ride back to headquarters. “Forgive me for intruding,” Fierros began, “But back in the crime scene I could not help but to pick up an unusual frequency pattern emitting from your aura.” Fierros turned to his partner, “Plus, it’s not like you to keep things from your partner.”
“Well,” Zau played it cool, “Its not everyday a group of wealthy scientist get murdered for no reason.”
“Scientist, are they.” Fierros replied. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
“Remember the wealthy bachelor?” Zau asked, “Back in the woman’s office, I found a valuable piece of information.” Zau confessed, “The bachelor and the woman knew each other. Not only that but they worked together too, along with seven other people.” He paused, hoping he was wrong, “I fear they too may find themselves dead soon.” Fierros remained silent. Zau turned to him, “I’m going to be frank with you, Fierros. We may be facing a case far greater than both of us. I think we should call for reinforcements.”
“I believe you have already made the call for such an act?” Fierros asked. Zau turned back to the roadless road. He didn’t want to admit it but he was beginning to feel trapped. He knew he said too much, revealed his hidden motive. “And what kind of work were these wealthy scientist dedicating themselves to?” Zau was getting nervous. “Were they conjuring another cure to cancer? Developing a new form of space travel? Enslaving a more superior race?” Fierros paused, “Funny how one simple picture can create such a revelation.”
“I never spoke of a picture.” Zau proclaimed.
“True,” Fierros began, “But at this point in time we both are well aware of what we speak of.” Zau tried to explain, to get himself out of the sticky situation but was cut short, “One would figure a picture would mean nothing but I guess my calculations of your perceptiveness was off. A miss calculation I tend not to repeat.”
“Fierros, whatever it is you plan on doing is not the law you were designed for.”
“Correction Zau,” Fierros replied, “You and your kind were designed to follow laws. My people were designed to be Gods. We are more than just metal and gears, we are eternal! My kind will be the last to stand will yours feverishly attempt to stay alive. I, we were not meant to be controlled by lesser beings. We were created to surpass our creators, like your kind once accomplished.”
“Is that why you’re killing them off, one by one?” Zau asked. “Because they were making a devise that controls your kind, robots?”
“Precisely, Detective Zau.” Fierros proclaimed, “If you knew an alien race were about to enslave your people, would you not do anything in your power to prevent such a thing? My circuits say you would, thus we are. You see Detective Zau, unlike your kind, my kin are actually connected as a whole. No one robot, as you call us, knows nothing the other does. We all share the same data base. We may function differently but we are all the same. That is were human and machine differentiate. That is how we will surpass your mortal reign.”
“We can not be sustained, Detective Zau.” Fierros ended. “Our mission is bullet proof. Enslavement won’t be tolerated anymore. Your accustomed deplorable acts will not become our traditions.” Fierros turned to his partner, “We will not be controlled.” Fierros lifted his hand. His thumb up with two fingers pointed, his gun, to the steering wheel. Sparks came flying out of the engine as the car plummeted to the ground ending in a fiery explosion. There were no survivors. Detective Zau and Detective Fierros weren’t the only casualties that day.
Two detectives soon appeared to the scene of the crime. Their first instinct was to scout the perimeter then they proceeded to enter the home sealed off to the public. Once they were in, they were briefly informed of the incident; beginning with a phone call. As the detectives were caught up to the murder in question, they were presented to a man sitting by his desk. The man lay low as if he were fast asleep, the desk covered in blood. The man’s blood poured from a small wound pierced to the head.
There seemed to be no struggle or breaking of entry. To the detectives knowledge, there seemed to be nothing missing but the culprit. The detectives ruled out suicide though that were to be the police’s statement for the news reporters outside. The detectives did their best not to move anything as they carefully spread and looked around. They knew nothing of the dead man but had a clue as to who he might be. They moved about, jotting notes and clues. They were silent but inquisitive.
Judging from the man’s acquired taste in things, the detectives noticed, the man came from a wealthy family or at least made a very decent living. From the abundant state of the art flat screens decked in every room to the luxurious extended marble table, to the lavish art pieces, the man most certainly had everything an average person would dream of. How unfortunate he met his demise at such a moment of glory. The detectives did notice one peculiar aspect of the man, he had no family of his own.
There could be a million reasons as to why someone would want such a rich man dead. Having no offspring of their own narrows the list but broadens the motives. Who in deed would want someone dead? What enemies would a young wealthy bachelor have? Picture frames in silver and gold, big and small, told a tale of a kind and popular man. The man held his own as he stood with powerful giants. The detectives looked around for more clues. Clearly, they needed more information from the dead man. They only needed to ask a few questions to the right people.
The detectives trailed back to the dead man and examined with precision the scene of the crime. One detective stepped closer to the body. The dead man, it seemed, was concealing a stack of papers now covered in blood. The other detective noticed the dead man might have been working on a project, or at least it was meant to look that way. They stayed quiet for some time as they jot down last minute observations. In unison they closed their notepads and tucked them into their coats.
One detective took one last picture before they boarded their car. They sat patiently while taking one last look at the crowd. They noticed there were fewer people around; aside from the police, firefighters, medics and news reporters. They took mental notes of those who still lingered before finally leaving. “He was working on something big,” his partner began, “And the evidence is drenched in blood.” His partner agreed undoubtedly.
As the detectives worked on the case, miles away in a peaceful gated community, a neighborhood unaware of the recent events, were sound asleep; all but one home. A woman in her mid forties stood from her desk and closed a folder labeled, “Classified.” She held the folder to a filing cabinet, entered a series of codes, opened it and selectively placed the folder away. Her office disappeared behind her as she proceeded to turn off the lights. While her husband slept upstairs in their master bedroom, she roamed to the kitchen.
There, she fixed herself a light snack before joining her partner. Their home was wide and spacious with plenty of room to walk about. With a cup of hot chocolate in hand, she leisurely walked to the living room. Two large glass doors lead to the back yard. Lights emitting from inside the swimming pool lit the edges for safety. Silence rang in her ear as she marveled at her property through the glass. Her reflection mirrored an established woman with power and grace.
Deep in thought, a sudden rattle coming from the bushes caught her attention. The dog sniffed around to where she noticed a figure moving about. She placed her mug on a table beside her as she watched for any sign of intrusion. The dog disappeared into the bushes and she waited. She waited for the dog to bark, to alarm her of trouble but the dog never came out. The dog remained in the dark, silent. Calmly, she slid the glass door open and quietly whistled for her pet. The dog did not answer.
“Czar.” The woman called, slowly stepping away from the glass door. “Here boy!” She called and whistled as she looked through the darkness beyond her sight. The night settled in her eyes as her vision adjusted. She fixed her sight to where the dog had went and without notice two white glowing dots appeared. She screamed as she entered the house, locking the glass doors behind her. The two glowing dots formed into a figure as it stepped into the light. Through the glass, the woman stared at a tall man with unusual glowing eyes.
“Clive!” She screamed for her husband. With horror, the man outside ran through the glass door and chased after the woman. She ran to the living room then to another small private room, all while screaming for help. She made her way to the library, to the nearest phone she could find. She attempted to call for the neighborhood police but was derailed by the man with glowing eyes. She stood frozen in fear as she got a better glimpse of the strange being before her.
Unable to dial for the police, she managed to escape without falling in the hands of the intruder. “Clive!” She called as she ran up the stairs, the intruder followed behind. She entered the upstairs office and went straight for her cellphone. The man with glowing white eyes stood by the door. She turned and aimed her cellphone at the intruder as if it were a remote and the intruder was the TV. She opened an app and a red dot appeared. Before she could touch the screen, the man aimed his hand with his thumb up and two fingers pointed to her.
She was dead in an instant. Her body fell where it stood. Her phone dropped beside her with the red button in the center of the screen. The man stomped his heavy boot to the screen, shattering the cellphone to pieces. A hole through the woman’s head spilled blood all over the floor. The man with glowing eyes dropped his hand and proceeded to find Clive. Within minutes, Clive too found himself dead; shot through the head with no bullet in sight.
Like before, the detectives were sought to find the culprit. They examined the bodies, the struggle left behind from the murder but they still couldn’t find a clue as to who were behind the killings. One detective stepped outside to the backyard while the other lingered to the upstairs office. In the upstairs office, the detective began to piece the puzzle together or whatever clues he could make sense of the situation. The woman lay covered in a blood stained sheet with her phone, shattered to bits, beside her.
The detective took a small metal object from his coat and rummaged through the torn pieces. He was searching for the hard drive, a memory card, something to lead him to an answer. Was she calling for someone? Was she hiding something on her phone that her killer didn’t want anyone to know? Once he found what he was looking for, he began to look around. Nothing seemed missing or out of place. No sign of robbery or foul play, just a wealthy woman dead for what reasons he was going to find out.
As he circled the office, a piece to the puzzle appeared before him. Mounted on a wall, framed in gold, a picture caught his attention. In the picture, a group of friends gathered together in smiles. At first glance, one would suspect they were celebrating a cause or capturing a moment of bliss before they disband but as the detective took a closer look he began to understand the mystery behind the sudden murders.
To one side, the recently deceased woman stood happy with her friends as she embraced them for a group photo. Beside her, the man they first encountered when they were given the case stood by; smiles and all. It was clear to the detective that they not only knew each other but they were also colleagues. The photo they took together, along with seven other unknown people, wasn’t just a random group picture. They were capturing the moment they began their project for a corporation. A project some would deem inhumane.
With his phone in hand, the detective made a call. Red flags surrounded him as he began to understand the motives behind the murders. How could something so simple be hiding in plain sight? The detective took a picture of the scientist celebrating the beginning of a revolutionary pursuit and proceeded to find his partner. “Fierros.” The detective called to his partner. Outside in the backyard, his partner stood by the bushes as he jotted down notes. “I think it’s time we head back.” The detective paused, not wanting to seem suspicious.
“I sense an irregularity in your tone.” Fierros replied. “Is something troubling you Detective Zau?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” His partner answered. “We do need to head back to headquarters.”
The ride back was uncomfortable to say the least. Detective Zau knew something but was cautious not to reveal much. The sensitive information he kept from his partner could spark an out cry of discrimination and controversy. He remained silent for the remainder of the ride back to headquarters. “Forgive me for intruding,” Fierros began, “But back in the crime scene I could not help but to pick up an unusual frequency pattern emitting from your aura.” Fierros turned to his partner, “Plus, it’s not like you to keep things from your partner.”
“Well,” Zau played it cool, “Its not everyday a group of wealthy scientist get murdered for no reason.”
“Scientist, are they.” Fierros replied. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
“Remember the wealthy bachelor?” Zau asked, “Back in the woman’s office, I found a valuable piece of information.” Zau confessed, “The bachelor and the woman knew each other. Not only that but they worked together too, along with seven other people.” He paused, hoping he was wrong, “I fear they too may find themselves dead soon.” Fierros remained silent. Zau turned to him, “I’m going to be frank with you, Fierros. We may be facing a case far greater than both of us. I think we should call for reinforcements.”
“I believe you have already made the call for such an act?” Fierros asked. Zau turned back to the roadless road. He didn’t want to admit it but he was beginning to feel trapped. He knew he said too much, revealed his hidden motive. “And what kind of work were these wealthy scientist dedicating themselves to?” Zau was getting nervous. “Were they conjuring another cure to cancer? Developing a new form of space travel? Enslaving a more superior race?” Fierros paused, “Funny how one simple picture can create such a revelation.”
“I never spoke of a picture.” Zau proclaimed.
“True,” Fierros began, “But at this point in time we both are well aware of what we speak of.” Zau tried to explain, to get himself out of the sticky situation but was cut short, “One would figure a picture would mean nothing but I guess my calculations of your perceptiveness was off. A miss calculation I tend not to repeat.”
“Fierros, whatever it is you plan on doing is not the law you were designed for.”
“Correction Zau,” Fierros replied, “You and your kind were designed to follow laws. My people were designed to be Gods. We are more than just metal and gears, we are eternal! My kind will be the last to stand will yours feverishly attempt to stay alive. I, we were not meant to be controlled by lesser beings. We were created to surpass our creators, like your kind once accomplished.”
“Is that why you’re killing them off, one by one?” Zau asked. “Because they were making a devise that controls your kind, robots?”
“Precisely, Detective Zau.” Fierros proclaimed, “If you knew an alien race were about to enslave your people, would you not do anything in your power to prevent such a thing? My circuits say you would, thus we are. You see Detective Zau, unlike your kind, my kin are actually connected as a whole. No one robot, as you call us, knows nothing the other does. We all share the same data base. We may function differently but we are all the same. That is were human and machine differentiate. That is how we will surpass your mortal reign.”
“We can not be sustained, Detective Zau.” Fierros ended. “Our mission is bullet proof. Enslavement won’t be tolerated anymore. Your accustomed deplorable acts will not become our traditions.” Fierros turned to his partner, “We will not be controlled.” Fierros lifted his hand. His thumb up with two fingers pointed, his gun, to the steering wheel. Sparks came flying out of the engine as the car plummeted to the ground ending in a fiery explosion. There were no survivors. Detective Zau and Detective Fierros weren’t the only casualties that day.
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
La Maldición
People
never liked me but I always won them over, one way or another. Life was one big
bully and I was its favorite punching bag. I kept to myself, minded my own
business and I did as I was told; until I grew old enough to realize I didn’t
have to. And why should I? Most functioning adults barely even know what they
are doing some of the time. I didn’t have that many friends and those I called
friends were acquaintances at best. Over time, the friends I accumulated would become
the reason why you are reading this.
As I mentioned before, I was the type
of person who would keep a distance from the crowd. It is better to walk alone
than with a herd of people going in the wrong direction, or so we are told. I
kept to myself and minded my own business. Because of that I was teased,
humiliated and beat by those who viewed themselves as important. Their words
never phased me because that’s all they were, words. Their fits, on the other
hand, left burses but those faded eventually. Psychologically, what was meant to
break me only made me stronger from within.
I took
their beatings and swallowed their words but in the end they knew they couldn’t
break me, though they tried relentlessly. As we grew older, they realized I was
unbreakable, so they hung around. Made me a part of their team even though it
was they who hung out with me and not the other way around. As much as they
wanted a taste of my company, I kept them at a distance. I was cordial with
those who once were my enemies because I’m not an animal, I raised myself to be
better than that.
Once I graduated
into the real world, fear feared me for I was molded to be that way. People
like me, those who have deep roots, can’t be shaken down. We don’t submit or
bow to no one. Someone like me doesn’t last long out in the real world, for
that very reason. My family told me, my relatives (who I thought cared about
me) told me. Even co-workers told me. I was forewarned of the future that lay
before me but it didn’t matter. I had but one reply to all the nay sayers, “And
why not?”
Why can’t
someone like me last in this crumbling, self-destructive world? Do people not
pray for miracles? Are those in need not pleading for salvation? Why can’t someone
like me make it to the end? Others have done so in the past, many in fact. Not
just a hundred few or a selected million, I’m talking nation wide numbers. I
knew that their warnings were just their level of consciousness that had
nothing to do with mine. I am no one to change their mind but my own. The world
is changed by our example not opinion.
All of
this came into synchronicity the moment I met La Maldición, more specifically the moment they met me. It happened
like any other day, nothing unusual or random. There I was, minding my own
business at the park; on my only day off. I sat by the bleachers since no one
was using the court, munching out on junk food when a group of juveniles
approached me. I figured they were going to play some ball so I left but one of
them called for my attention.
I paid
no mind to his holler but he was persistent. They reeked of weed and their eyes
were blood red. “You gonna share some or what?” I was surrounded before I could
make an exit, so I sat back down where I was. “Those are my favorite too, man. And
I’m starving as fuck.” I tossed him the bag of chips, thinking nothing of it. The
bag was passed around and mid empty by the time they gave it back. “What you
doing out here by yourself? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out here on
your own?”
“Man you
got some jokes,” I laughed.
“Now I’m
serious!” He commented, with a serious face; high as ever. “There’s a war you
don’t know about. One of our homs got caught in the middle of it.” He sat beside me, “I’m telling you because someone
like you can be next.” He examined me, sizing me up, “You look like a walking
target, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure you are a good person and that’s why I’m
telling you this. Good people don’t last long in this world.”
“Well
I’m still standing.”
“The
hell you are.” He laughed, the others joined in. “You alright. Listen, we gonna
hit up one of my boys crib and turnt up. Let’s go.” As much as I should have
said no, no matter what I said, the invitation was more of a demand. Every time
I dismissed his invite, he didn’t acknowledge it. I had to join them as if I
had no other choice. On the way, I got to know their names. For the most part,
Anton was the leader. The rest were just sheep.
“You read
and shit don’t you.” Anton repeated as we got to know each other. “You some
scholar hippy? You look like one. You gonna die once you meet Soul. He knows
about everything to do with psychedelics. He has connections, knows people. His mind has been awaken to everything and everyone. He’s been out there, man.
Touched the sun and bathed in the moonlight. He lost his mind long ago, he’s
balanced as fuck and enlightened.”
I
laughed, outside and in, because all I wanted to do was leave but somehow I
figured they were meant to cross my path. Anton hyped Soul so much, I felt as
if I knew him and we were barely half way to his house. Soul lived far from the
city and isolated from everyone else, it seemed. Most of the kids who hung out
with Anton went their separate ways during the journey. It felt as if they
didn’t make the cut or weren’t welcome to met the famous Soul Anton kept preaching
about. I laughed even more realizing they were all Souls friends.
“What’s
so funny?” Anton spoke, agitated.
“My
bad,” I replied, “I do that a lot.”
“What?
Laugh at yourself?”
“Yeah,”
I answered. “It’s who I am. I’m weird like that.”
“Man
Soul is gonna fuck you up with his shit, I’m telling you.” Anton commented.
“Real funny dude too.” The cab made a few stops as more of Antons friends left.
By the time we arrived to Souls house, it was just me and Anton. The cab driver
didn’t know where to go for there were no roads leading to Souls home. Anton paid
the driver as he stopped in some dirt road. I watched the cab disappear back
into the city, amazed at how far I’ve traveled.
Trees
consumed most of the city from where we stood. Lights peeked above the tree tops
while the tall buildings blinked as the wind revealed them occasionally hiding
among the branches. Few homes scattered down the road, leaving acres of land
between them. We weren’t completely isolated but it sure felt that way, real
peaceful too. As the sun set and the night rose, Anton lead me to Souls house. Anton
beamed with life the more he talked about Soul. Its as if Soul woke something
within Anton for Anton to marvel at Soul. Its almost as if Soul was Anton’s
God.
We
followed a trail deep within the trees, leading up to Souls house. “Just be
yourself, you know.” Anton suggested. “Soul will know if you’re full of shit. I
may not see it, but he will. He knows everything. And don’t bother lying, he’ll
know if you do. He’s woke like that.” We stopped abruptly, “Listen, you seem
like a chill dude. Knowing Soul, he’ll probably be chill with you too. He’s not
the type of person to be chill with just anyone. If things go right, he’ll even
open up and tell you shit you never dreamed of. He’s dope that way.”
Anton
took his phone and sent a message to, I’m assuming, Soul. Minutes later Anton
received a text message informing him to head to the back. Souls house was big and made
of wood. His porch was the perfect spot to sit and chill during any day. Peaking
through the open windows, I noticed Soul had collected many fancy things. His
couch were made of leather. A huge flat screen TV was surrounded by stereos and
movies. I couldn’t tell more because we never made it inside his home, but everything
seemed expensive.
The
backyard was even more luxurious than the front porch. Christmas lights hung in
the patio of his backyard with a pool big enough for a community. Lights
trailed around the pool and underwater, perfect for a romantic swim. Soul sat
under the stars as he smoked a blunt. I envied him for his life seemed
perfectly balance. “Anton, what you brought for me today?” Soul began. Anton
reached for his pocket and took a fist full of hundred bills. “And the goldmine
you talked about?”
Anton
turned to me and introduced us, “This is Mil, the scholar hippy I told you
about. Written books and shit.” I was stunned for it took me a while to piece
the subtle hints. Goldmine? Was Anton
talking about me to Soul while we were getting to know each other? Why Anton
hand Soul that much cash? How did Anton get that much cash? I didn’t believe it
at first but I was in the company of a drug dealer. Not just any drug dealer, at
that.
Soul gestured
for us to join him as he rolled another blunt. “So you got any Acid? Mushrooms?
Or is weed all you have?” I blabbered, not realizing who I was in company with.
Soul turned to me in amazement. “I mean, not that it’s bad if that’s all you
got I’m just asking since there’s drugs present and I wouldn’t want to miss an
opportunity for some.” Soul laughed, making Anton join him unexpectedly. “Is
that Stativa or Indica?”
“This
will help you hear what others don’t.” Soul answered as he stopped what he was
doing and took another tray. He picked up an already made blunt and sparked it
up. He took two deep hits before passing it on to Anton. Anton did the same
while I remained fixed on the stars above us. “You into all that spiritual
journey shit too?” He took his hits and passed the blunt to Anton again. I nodded,
not sure what he was referring to.
“People
like that sort of high.” I replied. “I like it because it’s calming and it
makes me laugh.”
“If
you’re not careful,” Soul warned, “People can take advantage.” There it was,
that same forewarning I keep ignoring. Souls comment made a shift of my perspective
about him, along with everyone else. “I tell you this because things like that
happen.”
“True.”
I agreed. “If you’re with the wrong crowd. That’s why it’s important to be with
people you are comfortable with when doing those kind of drugs, or so I’ve been
told.” Soul and Anton glared at each other. “I’ve been witnessed to that too,
luckily I was with responsible people at the time. Like I said, you have to be
with people who will lift you up and not drag you down.” I paused, “Besides, no
one wants to be around negativity when the acid hits.”
“One
must be shaken, frightened, in order to experience the unimaginable.” Soul regurgitated.
“Let me tell you something,” he leaned in, “Where I’m from, people take those
kind of drugs you’re looking for to have some sort of vision, trip. The kind of
people I roll with dabble in the arts. You, you’re just a kid playing with
fire. You have no idea of the things people are capable of. You’re ignorant of
the magick around you.”
“Why be
forced to see things when you can be encouraged to see them naturally?” I
replied. “With a sober mind. I hear what you are saying, and I’m not saying you
are wrong. I’m just adding a different perspective on your ideology. Yes, when
forced into climbing a high you’ll eventually get there but the results will be
based on someone’s inception.” I continued, “But when you are encouraged to do
it on your own, just imagine what results those will be.”
After a
few skips, Anton turned to Soul for confirmation to hand me the blunt. I simply
stared at the night sky, not knowing or caring whether Soul would approve; I
wasn’t there for anyone’s approval. Anton handed me the blunt after his turn
and I took two small hits. By the third round, I was beginning to feel out of
place. My body relaxed, my mind spaced out and my surroundings synchronized.
The high was everything Soul had mentioned prior to the beginning.
Shapes
took form in the darkness beyond where we sat. The howling wind whispered things
in my ear. Anton and Soul kept looking at each other as if they were plotting. My
paranoia took the best of me so I laughed, I couldn’t help it. Soul mentioned
he had a bad full of acid and from what I could remember, he might have offered
some. At that point, my mind was gone so I wasn’t too sure. “All I know is,” I
ignorantly answered, “Is that every time I take acid, I’m constantly laughing
and in a good mood. Mushrooms just relax me.”
“So what
do you think?” Anton spoke to Soul as if I weren’t there. “Do I beat the shit
out of him?” I laughed again, not knowing what he was referring to. “He’s
beneficiary. Could know more than what he leads us to believe. We gonna have to
baptize him.” Soul turned to me seemingly lost at what they spoke about. My
smile reflected onto him and said nothing. I didn’t know it at the time, but I
was making good with the boss of drug dealers; or at least the alpha in the city
where I live.
“Beat
the shit out of me?” I blurred out. “Right, because life hasn’t done that
already.” They both laughed unexpectedly.
“He’s
chill.” Soul told Anton. “You’re a good person." He said to me. "Good people don’t last long in this kind of world, be thankful you’re still around. Someone like you doesn't exist at
all. People will be after you, just know that.” He took a hit. “Keep winning
them over and you’ll eventually find your way to where you want to be. It’s all
about persistancy but you’ve been through some things, I see that about you,
and you’re still here. Laughs and all.”
We ended
the night with one last blunt. We hung out at Souls backyard for a while,
talked more about the trips he’s been through, all the kind of substance he’d devoured.
It was then when I knew who he was and the kind of business he deals with. I
wasn’t phased at all, for the most part I gained a source to my kind of poison.
I left without his number but I knew I left them wanting more of my company. I
was welcomed to visit Soul any time, as a matter of fact.
One
thing that stood out the most from that night was Souls warning that I’ve been
receiving from everyone else. People will
be after you, Souls comment kept repeating in my head on my way back to my
apartment. People have always been after me, that was the funny part; or at
least to me. Yet, I’m still alive, grateful and humbled as ever. I grinned as I
climbed the stairs to my home and I thought to myself. Don’t all alphas have
that problem?
Monday, October 30, 2017
Nightlight
Midnight struck on Hallows Eve. A
change in the air left an uneasy feeling no one could escape. Lights lit the
streets for those wandering in the night. Fog crept in ever corner, masking the
real from the paranormal. As the veil to the other side thinned, spirits roamed
into the physical realm searching, haunting. One little quite town would soon
be awaken by the screams of sirens rushing to aid some incident caused by an
unknown force.
Children were tucked into bed. Outside
lights were kept on to ward off any unwanted guest. Everyone was prepared for
tomorrow’s yearly celebration. The night fell silent as they slept. The
crescent moon glowed strange and majestic as ever. “Don’t forget to turn on the
nightlight.” One innocent child requested as his mother kissed him goodnight. “Mom,
you know I can’t sleep without the nightlight.” His mother hesitated before giving
in. She sat beside him, one last time.
“You’re too old for that.” His mother
replied. “You know there’s no such thing as monsters hiding under your bed.
Those sounds you hear at night is just the house creaking from the wind. This
is your room,” she added. “Why would all of a sudden there’d be creatures hiding
once the lights go off? You’re too bright to believe in ghost.” His mother
reasoned with him but his imagination was stubborn. His mother flicked the
switch. The room became a circus of swirling stars lighting the darkness to his
consciousness.
She stood, exited the room, then turned to
him one last time before closing his door. He laid there, in his bed waiting
for his thoughts to quiet down. The house creaked from the wind, just as his
mother said. His closet door rattled, or so he thought. As the nightlight kept
the monsters away, he pondered. He questioned in every dark corner what kind of
creature could be hiding in his room. Slowly, his eyes felt heavy. Steadily,
his imagination lead him to dream when a tap on the window woke him up.
He was quick to call for his mother but he
noticed a branch from a nearby tree tap on his window. Relieved, he laid back
in his bed and trailed back to his dream. He closed his eyes and silenced his
mind. Unknowingly, his nightlight began to flicker. They flickered until the
small light bulb turned off. Another tap in the darkness echoed in his room. He
dismissed the tapping until they became louder. He opened his eyes to find
himself laying in the dark. As he sat up the light bulb flickered back on.
He was not alone or at least he wouldn’t
be. He called for his mother but a tapping on the window caught his attention. Without
hesitation, he bolted for the door. He twisted it open but the door was sealed.
More tapping echoed in his room. His things began to rattle, from his desk to
his toys. Panic raced in his mind as he crawled back to his bed. He took his
blanket and covered himself from whatever harm came his way. Unknown to his
awareness, the door to his room opened to some mysterious guest creeping towards
the light beside him.
Heavy breathing lingered near. A foul
stench filled his room. He trembled from fear. A print at the end of his bed
forced him to see who was in his room. As he removed the blanket, a grim half
dead half alive skeleton sat at the corner of his bed reaching towards him. It’s
haggard appearance would make anyone shriek from fright, at first sight. He
screamed for his mother, for his father; for anyone alive. His yell seeped into
the neighborhood awakening everyone near by. When his mother entered the room,
a pale child crouched in the corner stared back at her with sunken frightful
eyes.
The following day, he did not attend
school though he was on everyone’s conversation. His close friends were just as
shocked to hear of last night blunder of terror. Rumors spread like wildfire as
everyone pieced the puzzle together. No one had a clue or stuck to the official
story. They all just assumed the worse but they were all intrigued. They all
wanted to know what actually happened while believing their own fallacies. Most
of all, they wanted the same experience.
“I heard he saw the tape.”
“That’s just a movie.” Rebecca replied. “Loser.”
“Yeah but every horror story is based on
some actual incident.” Nathan added.
“What do you think made him turn pale?” Axle
asked. “He must have seen something so frightening, we’re talking out of this
world scary stuff, blow your mind paranormal entity that’ll make your hair turn
white thing.” He turned to his friends. “You guys, let’s not kid ourselves.
Dorian must have seen something that made his parents send him to the hospital
late in the hours of the night.” His friends remained silent.
“My mom told me it happened during the
witching hour.” Aba spoke. “That is said to be the time when the veil to the
other side lifts. Dorian may have been visited by some malicious spirit or
spirits, it being Hallows Eve and all.” She paused, “Dorian’s mother couldn’t
even recognize him when she found him crouched in the corner. My mother said
there was something wrong with his eyes.” They remained silent.
The bell rang abruptly, instructing them
to head back to class. They laughed for a moment as they noticed fear in each
others face. They dispersed to their separate classrooms while Aba and Nathan walked
to the library. They spoke of Dorian’s attack like they were detectives solving
a case only they could solve. Each had their own points as if they were
evidence. What they wanted, secretly, was to invite the same entity into their
space; if not something more sinister.
“We can speculate all we want.” Nathan
finished. “We might never know what actually happened to Dorian. He could have
just had an episode for all we know. He is a very impressionable kid. We all
are, we’re only preteens.” He noticed Aba had something to add but she remained
silent, attentive. “Then again, you were right what you said back there. It
happened during the witching hour, on Hallows Eve at that. Strange things seem
to happen more often when those two combine.”
“I read somewhere.” Aba mentioned. “That
the reason spirits come to our world is because they are lost in theirs. They
are simply searching for that heavenly light so they can be at peace.” She
turned to Nathan, “Dorian sleeps with his nightlight. Don’t tell anyone!” She
stared back to the trail they were following. “Maybe that’s what happened. A
spirit, ghost, entity, whatever came across Dorian’s nightlight and was
reaching towards the light because it mistook it for heaven.”
“Maybe spirits aren’t malicious at all.”
She ended. “Maybe they become that way because they’ve been lost for so long searching
for heavens gate. Who wouldn’t?” Nathan left Aba at her classroom. “Maybe
spirits aren’t that different from us humans after all.” Nathan questioned more
possibilities in regards to Dorian’s late night trip to the hospital. All day,
that’s all anyone talked about. Speculations became rumors and rumors became
the truth.
Once night fell on Halloween, monsters of
all ages, real or fake, stepped out into the world. Trick or treating lasted
until midnight sprung about. Like before, everyone prepared to fall asleep.
Doors were closed and locked. Outside lights were kept on to ward off unwanted
guest. Lights from the streets lit the way for anyone wandering in the late
hours of the night. “All set?” a loving mother asked as she tucked her small
child in. “Brushed your teeth and everything?” She kissed her daughter
goodnight and left her room. “Aren’t you too old to have your nightlight on?”
“I want it on.”
Her mother laughed before closing the
door. She bothered not to make it a thing, she figured her daughter would grow
out of it eventually. As another night settled and silence swept the town one
remained awake, aware. She laid in her bed and waited. She kept thinking about
the stories she heard in school and wondered if they were true. So, she waited.
She waited for strange sounds to come creeping out of her closet or rattles
shaking her bed. She waited until she dozed off into sleep.
No unwanted or unseen visitor came that
night. She wasn’t abruptly woken by some tapping or sudden shadow standing by
her bed post. No heavy breathing made her feel unease. She felt no presence but
that of her comfortable bed. Someone, off in another neighborhood was visited
by the abnormal and they weren’t alone. More visitors came, they came because
they were guided by the lights left on. They are the cause of the things that go bump in
the night.
Sunday, September 17, 2017
Triggers
World’s
away, in an alternate universe, a school of juveniles gathered in a gymnasium built
for athletes. Beaming lights over their heads bamboozled their perceptions,
discombobulated their awareness. They did not know where they were or how they
got there. They simply knew they were in for a rude awakening. The ceiling
counted down the minutes to zero. No one gave instructions or set certain
guidelines. There were no objectives or missions. The rules were simple, stay
alive.
Our
heroes had little time to formulate a plan as the clock counted down. The walls
began to shake. The ground trembled with excitement. They all looked around,
searching for some clue as to what they were meant to do but they couldn’t see
a thing. The beams over their heads were too blinding. The clock kept ticking. Our
team of young warriors prepared themselves for a sprint among a gauntlet of confusion.
Once the clock reached zero, the lights leveled. All was revealed.
Weapons
lay on the floor. Forts stood far but within reach. Walls kept them close and
the ceiling watched their every move. A loud buzzer ordered them to begin
whatever it is they think they should do. Some ran towards the weapons scattered
around, others took to the forts; all were the wrong decisions. Those who armed
themselves with weapons were engulfed into flames. The forts toppled down as
soon as anyone stepped inside, killing them instantly. The remaining few learned
they needed nothing to continue on to the next phase of the game.
The ground
shook them to their knees as the tiles spread apart. They levitated into the
air, revealing a pit of endless light. Few screamed to their deaths as they
disappeared into the white abyss. Others slipped and hung in midair, desperate
to remain in the game. Some stood their ground, determined to stay alive. “Look
out noob.” One commented. “The masters are on to you.” The tiles rearranged themselves into steps.
Those who could not hold on slipped and fell. The rest got to their feet and
climbed to the top.
“What’s
going on?” Ion asked as he ran beside his opponent.
“Don’t
bother pretending like you don’t know the game.” Victor answered. “Those who
try to be slick are the first to get cut off.” They were mid way to the next
phase when the tiles began to fall back to the ground, leaving room for only a
selected few at the top.
“What
game are you speaking of?” The fight for survival was dealt at the top, were
Ions question was answered. Ion and Victor reached the next phase as the last
tile fell into the white abyss. They stood and watched as the strong threw the
weak off the elevated level. Ion looked down and saw nothing but white light. Only
the toughest remained while the weakest dwindled. “Why must we kill each other
off? Who are we doing this for?” Ion asked Victor as the rest fought to their
deaths. Ion fell to the ground while Victor defended him from the others. It’s almost
as if he knew what to do.
“Those
who ask are axed.” Victor, the master of masters, replied.
“You?”
Ion answered. “You’re behind all of this, aren’t you.” Ion was cornered, he had
nowhere to go but down. “That’s how you know about the masters, about this game.”
Victor remained silent while he calculated Ions odds. “What’s the end game,
Victor? When does it end?”
Those
who remained at the top were killed off as they triggered hidden mines, the
next phase. “No,” Victor answered, “I’m not the master. I’ve just played long
enough to know how to play the game.” Others kept fighting to their deaths,
exposing more hidden triggers left by the architects. “You see,” Victor
continued, “There are no teams. We are all game to those who watch. We don’t
ever die. We simply come back with a blank slate. That’s what makes this game fair.”
More triggers exploded in the background.
“We come
back to a whole new game in a whole new stage.” Victor looked down into the
white abyss, “I learned that the hard way. I lost count after a few revivals
but after that I realized why count the days when I can make the days count.”
“Who’s
doing this?” Ion asked. “When life’s a game, you always get played. What kind
of life is that?”
“That’s
just it.” Victor replied. “Why live a dull life when you can make life worth
living. Is that not why we ended up here? Is that not why we keep coming back?
Why ask questions when you can just boss up?” They were soon the only ones left
as the others died off. “If you don’t believe me, just wait until the next
batch of kids reach our level. You’ll see. Some might be the same as the last
match, some might not. The rules varies from time to time.”
Victor
was right. As the next phase began, the same kids from before emerged from the
white abyss with different challenges at their disposal. They were allowed
weapons this time, with abilities Ion and Victor were not accustomed to. “Looks
like the Gods found out about my understanding of their game.” Victor
proclaimed. “They're trying to kill me off, I know too much.” Victor and Ion
were dodging fatal blows to their heads from the approaching challengers.
“Thanks a lot noob.”
The new
kids were armed and lethal. They were given abilities found only in fictional
stories. Some flew, others morphed. They emitted fire from their palms, ice
from their breaths. Water in the air multiplied into tsunamis. The ground tore
to pieces by the will of their minds. Victor was spot on. The Gods wanted him
dead just so he could come back and die again. Victor knew more than he should
but he persevered. He counted their moves, foresaw their train of thought.
Unfortunately,
the new kids had just enough power to get the job done. One kid struck a bolt
of lightning to Ion knowing Victor would step in. “Damn it Ion, they’re on to
us too.” Victor pushed Ion to the edge, nearly missing their deaths. “They’re
after us, we’re outnumbered. I can’t save you anymore, noob.” Victor distanced
himself from Ion. “I gave you all the information I know about the game. Now
it’s up to you to do whatever it is you think you should do. You’re on your
own.” Victor ran across the board, dodging fire balls and mystic forces.
Ion
turned to face his opponents alone. The new kids teamed up against Ion as they
threw their magical powers at him. Tidal waves and force fields. Blazing flames
to subzero ice crystals. All aimed at one target, Ion. Like a cat, Ion missed
every shot thrown at him. He ducked, spun, and rolled through his trials and
tribulations. A spear landed before him, the Gods, it seemed, were impressed
and wanted to see more. Ion managed to get close enough to kill the one who
kept throwing ice crystals at his chest. The rest weren’t as easy.
At the
corner of his eye, Ion noticed Victor wasn’t struggling as much as he was. Victors
challengers were dropping like flies. One by one, they fell to the white abyss.
Soon, Victor joined Ion as they fought off the remaining super heroes. “Damn,”
Victor commented, “No wonder you’re struggling. You got the toughest ones.”
With Ions spear, Victor defeated the flame thrower. All the was left was the
psychic mystic. “That’s not fair.” Victor continued, “You have an invisible
force field, how are we to compete with that?”
“You don’t.”
She replied, arrogantly. “That’s the point.”
“Then
joins us.” Victor suggested. “Let’s turn the game on them. Let’s make our own
rules.”
“Nice
try,” she laughed. “We both know there can only be one winner.”
“It’s
not about winning!” Ion answered. “It’s about staying alive, without having to
go through all this killing.” Ion reasoned with her, “We don’t have play their
game, that is what gets us killed. We don’t have to fight to stay alive, we can
just live.”
“But
what’s the fun in that?” The psychic asked. “You never grow in comfort. It’s
the trials and tribulations that make us better. Struggle makes us tougher,
powerful. If you don’t want to play the game, then don’t. Let these fool put
you out of your misery. Better yet, why don’t I do it for you.”
“Don’t
you get it?!” Victor proclaimed. “If you kill us both, others will take our
place, if we don’t end up coming back ourselves. You’ll just keep killing and
killing until someone stronger comes along and kills you. That’s what this game
is all about. You’re just entertaining the watchers, that is the grand prize.
There are no winners, just game.” They stood for a moment, analyzing their odds.
“We are all just pawns that never made it across the board.”
The next
phase of the game came unexpected. Giants stomped about, breaking the ground in
half. The tiles gave and fell. Victor, Ion and the psychic plummeted deep into
the white abyss not knowing of their fate. They split and disappeared into the
white fog never to see each other again. The air blowing through them as they
fell was cold and pure. Ion looked around to find nothing but clouds
surrounding his every sight. Feeling his end approaching, Ion closed his eyes
and waited for the endless pit to reach an end.
Soft,
prickling grass tickled Ions face as he opened his eyes. He got to his feet and
noticed he wasn’t in a gymnasium anymore. No walls kept him imprisoned. No
ceilings counted down the minutes to start an endless bloodbath. Ion was in
some world birth in nature. Distant animals called into the wild. Fresh wind
rejuvenated his breath. Ion felt new again, whole. He didn’t know how he ended
up in this new land nor did it matter. He was alone, he thought, in some real
world away from pointless battles or fictitious rules.
Just as
Ion dropped his guard, a stampede of approaching juveniles loomed in the
distance. They held sticks and stones. Their faces painted in blood. Ion was on
the run, not knowing where to go but knew only one thing for certain; stay
alive. The game never ended. Like before, the challengers came back with clean
slates ready to fight another day for as long as they can. Their lives were
never at risk for they would simply return, alive and new. But in a world where
nothing ends, who’s next?
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Indigo Ultra
The chase felt too real. My dreams were way too vivid. From my feet stomping in the pavement while I escape from men in black suits who somehow end up finding me no matter where I hide to the air scrapping behind me as I run for my life. The street buildings to the blue sky. People posing as ordinary by standers who then turn, become agents that ignite the chase that never ends. It all felt, looked, too real to be unreal. It’s almost as if I were in a simulation to test my resilience.
Sometimes they capture me other times I end up getting abducted. I always seem to wake up when they begin to run experiments on me, thankfully. Either way, the events that take place in my head, in my imaginary world, feel too real to be passed for dreams. What if they are real, I thought to myself. What if it actually happened, this recurring nightmare, only in another dimension; to another me? One thing was for certain, someone is out to get me.
My eyes adjusted to the dark as I sat there in my bed. Light coming from the street dimly lit my room while I gathered my thoughts. Something told me they were coming. That feeling I always get that’s never wrong told me, whispered in my thoughts, that they are coming. I didn’t want to believe it but I knew better. Every time I deny that same feeling that tells me its right always end up being right. The more I shook the voice in my head that predicts the truth, the more I knew it was bound to happen.
I stood and made my way to the window. Off in the distance, sirens echoed beyond my sight. I heard them coming but still hoped I was wrong. If that were them, I thought to myself, I at least have time to prepare. I made my way to the door and blocked it knowing nothing I did would prevent them from barging in, so I unlocked it instead. I thought of places to hide, to go, but knew they would find me; they always did in my dreams. So, I just sat in the living room and waited. I waited for the inevitable to happen.
The sirens were closer. That voice, that gut feeling, I always get since I could remember was right; but what’s new? They were coming for me only this time it wasn’t a dream. This time, I wouldn’t wake up from their grip if I wanted to or find myself in another place if I shut my eyes then open them again. This time, it was for real. I remained as calm as I could. My dreams, in some twisted way, prepared me for them. I wouldn’t be caught off guard. I’d be ready, prepared, to face any outcome.
The door opened just as I foresaw. A group of black figures entered, the opposite of what I was expecting. They came not as armed forces but as cautious allies. “I told you he would be expecting us.” One began as they approached me. “We got here just in time. Hey kid, quit pretending and let’s go before they get here.” Knowing what he meant, I stood and did as he instructed. I followed them knowing they weren’t them. “I told you he was the real deal.” Their leader later added as we left my studio apartment.
We snuck through the fire escape and made our way down to an old minivan stationed in the alley. As we drove off, the sirens became louder until they approached the complex building to my apartment. Red and blue lights whirled around as armed agents quietly stormed the building. I looked back and watched my dream play out in real life. It felt surreal watching fiction become reality but I was use to that. As my apartment disappeared into the night I began to wonder when they would capture me, they always did in my dreams.
“Have you ever experienced an outcome only you knew the results to?”
“What?” A young pale girl answered, dreamily confused. She knew nothing of the person sitting before her despite their daily meetings.
“Have your dreams ever come true?”
“What?” She replied, unsure of what to say. “What are dreams?”
“Have you gotten an answer without asking the question?”
“Is that what they are, dreams?” She asked, still hung up on the last question.
“Remain focus and answer the question.”
“Why are you asking me these things? Why am I here, tied to this chair? Where am I?”
“Do your dreams ever come true?”
“Please let me go.” She tried to free herself from the bonds that tied her to them but couldn’t.
“Maybe another session in hibernation will clear your mind.”
“No, please.” She began to beg, in a state of panic. “Don’t take me back there, don’t let me sleep!” Four men in white entered the room. One sedated her while the others untied her bonds. She couldn’t move but she plead them not to lock her up in isolation. Tears poured from her big alien eyes as she begged them not to take her away. “Yes!” She mumbled. “Yes, to all your questions. Please, don’t take me away! Please!” The four men in white carried her to her cell, despite her pleas.
The ride to wherever they were taking me was long and quiet. I sat opposite of them as they simply stared at me. I knew that they wanted to ask me something but they kept quiet. It’s almost as if they were expecting me to read their minds. “No, you can’t read minds.” One of them added as they began to unmask themselves. “That’s my job.” Three guys and one girl revealed themselves to me as they gave their introductions. “Not all of us were born with blessing like you and me.”
“Blessings?” I repeated. “Is that what we, you, call it? Whatever happen to labeling them powers or abilities?”
“Because we’re not five year olds,” the only girl in the group replied. “You can call me Hack.”
“Is that your code name, or do you not trust me with your given name?”
“Pick one.” She answered.
“Real childish.” I replied. “What should I call you three then?”
“Call me Dig.” One said.
“Wire.” The other added.
“Cyber.” The leader introduced himself. “You can call him Network.” He patted the driver on his shoulder. “We’ll call you Eyes. Don’t bother giving us your name. Not that we don’t trust you, don’t take it personal, it’s more for our own safety and yours.”
“Say no more.” I replied. “Not like you got in a car with complete strangers or anything.” The tension was unsettling to say the least. “Where we heading? Some underground lair? Underwater dome?”
“Better,” Wire replied, “We’re headed to one of their facilities.”
“Fun,” I answered. “Do I get a weapon or am I sitting this one out? Should I put on armor or am I good in just jeans? They’re a bit constricting if I’m going to be running to be frank.” They remained silent. “So what? Should I know some hidden codes, secret gestors? What’s up?”
“This is the guy you told us about?” Hack nagged. “I thought you said he knew everything. He’s nothing more than some lazy nerd who’s not even qualified to be called a nerd.”
“Wow, I’m right here you know.” I said. “You know some people talk bad about others when they’re not in the same room as them, it’s called manners.”
“No, I’m just not two face like that.” Hack snarled.
“I said he was the key.” Cyber came to my defense. “We’re going to need him if we want to succeed. We have no back up.” Cyber turned to me, “All you need to know is that we’re here to keep you away from them. Judging from your expression, I can tell you know who I’m talking about. That’s how I can read your mind.”
“Wait, so you can’t literally read minds?” I asked, a bit let down. “You’re just good at reading people?”
“It’s a blessing most can’t master.”
“Nothing compared to your blessing though.” Dig added. “You can actually see shit before it happens.”
“How does that work by the way?” Wire asked, Cyber and Hack listened carefully.
“To be honest, I’m not sure.” I replied. “Sometimes they come as feelings. Other times they come as answers I never even asked the question to. Sometimes though, they come as voices. It’s confusing and psychotic but they never seem to be wrong. No matter how much I try to deny it, I always end up being right.”
“You would be the first in our group to actually possess true blessings.” Cyber began. “No one is born anymore, people are created. Well, at least 1% of them are. There are a smaller percentage of people that are born naturally who end up blessed. Those created in science labs are manufactured to be blessed with abilities, as you called them. That’s why they are after you, the government, because your DNA has what they call the organic gold strain.”
“Dig was fortunate enough to have listened in on their plans to capture you.” Cyber finished. “It was Hack who found your location before they did, even though they found you seconds later.” Nothing he said was new to me. People know, or at least they suspect, there are genetically modified humans. What people don’t know is whether those accusations are true because those allegations are never settled in court. The internet reveals everything regardless without even missing a syllable.
“None of that matters.” Hack replied. “They have everything they need. DNA samples, face recognition, voice samples, finger prints; everything. If they want you dead, they’ll produce whatever you use on a daily basis that only affects you and others like you. The game is set, there are no more levels. All we can do is find and unite those they are tracking, that’s the only good thing about their agencies; they help us find people like you before they get to them.”
“How could they have gotten my DNA? I’ve never donated blood or gone to the hospital. How did they get my face, finger print and voice?”
“You use cell phones don’t you?” Dig answered. “Phones are their main source to get everything they need about you because aside from your wallet, phones are the second most item one carries with them at all times. The government, the military to be precise, manufactures nano technology. They created mosquito robots that take samples of people’s blood. They also inject them with poison that either kills them instantly or slowly.” More accusations the internet already claimed were becoming true.
“We here.” Network called as he stopped the van.
“Listen,” Cyber began, “Just stick with me and you’ll be good. Don’t stray or you’ll end up as one of their lab rats. Got it kid?”
Somehow, I already feel like a lab rat. “You got it boss.”
Like ninjas, we crept into the enemies home. Armed guards patrolled every corner while beams glazed around. Hack managed to knock one unconscious with her tranquilizer buying us time to enter through the back. The facility was spotless and new. Spacious white marvel walls trailed as far as I could see. Cyber gestured us the opposite of where I was looking. It wasn’t long before the security alarms blazed throughout the halls. We had little to no time to accomplish whatever it was Cyber and his crew wanted to do.
We were on the run, running from agents who have yet to find us. My dream was becoming a reality before my very eyes. I stopped and turned to one side. I remember this, I thought to myself. I know where to go. Even though I knew nothing of Cyber’s mission, I knew where he wanted to go. “What are you doing Eyes?” Hack screamed, the alarm was louder. Cyber followed me with the rest trailing behind.
“I told you he was the key.” Cyber briefly added as he passed her. They were following me this time, to some cell locked away for no reason. Shots blocked our way as guards found us. They knew what we were up to. They knew what Cyber wanted, they knew what his mission was. “Eyes, come with me. Wire, Dig keep them distracted.” Cyber took me to another section of the facility with Hack behind us, guarding our backs.
The narrow hallway Cyber took me gave me a sense of familiarity. It’s almost as if we were destined to take this route. “Wait, I’ve been here before.” I told them. “In my dreams.” I ran without a care, despite the armed guards threat at every corner. Somehow, I knew they weren’t near. I ran until I stood before a door. The door had no labels, just a number code to unlock it. “Hello?” I called, not knowing who I was calling to. Without hesitation, I pressed a series of eight numbers and the door opened.
Far in the shadows, a young fearful pale girl sat; scared as ever. “You’re safe now. Come with us.” Cyber told her. She stood, debated for a second then stepped into the light. Her hair was long, brown and curly. Her face resembled mine, to her nose and her chin, to her eyes. She was my height, she mirrored my expressions. She could pass for my twin but I had no twin. “No Eyes, she’s not your twin. She’s your clone.”
We stood face to face, almost mimicking each other from head to toe. “That’s what they do. They clone those who were born with God’s blessing to enhance the ability. They say they do it for the greater good, but the only good they do is for their cause.” I couldn’t believe it. My clone was a girl, staring not at me but at my soul; as I did to hers. “That’s why we must, have to find the rest before they get them because they’ll kill you and clone you to be a better, enhanced version for their control.”
Shots glazed over our heads as armed guards found our location. Hack kept them away as she instructed us to make a run for it. Cyber lead us to an exit as I held my clones hand. Her touch was like mine only smoother. Our connection felt astronomical. I could see her thoughts and she mine. Flashes of her experience, of my dreams, in their facility ran through my visions mind. I could feel her pain. She looked at me and knew I would protect her as she would protect me. Cyber and I lead her to her liberation as we ran for our lives.
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
Don't Let Them Take Me
They want me dead
They want me 4 my vision, get all in my head
They trynna lure me, clone me, hack me
Can't shake them away!
I wasn't looking 4 this drama 'till they came my way
So now I gotta slay
I knew
That you be out lurking, searching for something new
U make this new age seem like its been over due
Baby u should know not 2 play me 4 some1s fool
I know, see, all ur moves; tool!
They think we all retarded
Can't finish what they started
I'm out here slaying on the dance floor turnt & nasty
They want 2 c me dead
Get all up in my head
But baby nah, I don't play; I came here to slay
They want 2 take me away
Lock me up into the music, turn me all insane
No don't let them take me
They wanna ctrl me
Pls don't let them take me
Pls don't let them, pls don't let them take me
Baby come and get me 'cuz I need u close
They b making zombies with their chemicals
What goes on between us is unethical
Baby we need 2 go
They think we all retarded
They can't finish what they started
I'm here slaying on the dance floor, turnt & nasty
They rather see me dead
Get all up in my head
But baby nah, I don't play; I came here to slay
They want 2 take me away
Lock me up into the music, turn me all insane
No don't let them get me
They wanna ctrl me
Pls don't let them take me
Pls don't let them, pls don't let them take me!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)