It was just this morning when I held my gaze against the sun's brilliant colours. Its brilliance was etched with a bright golden hue that painted the bluish sky and the crystalized droplets of water which my daughter would have termed as a white foamy pillow that decorated the sky beautifully, and wonderfully.
Another foot smashed against my face, Pressing my flesh deeper into my bones as I felt my body sinking further into the smooth granite below me.
Yesterday. Yes, I think -I feel like it was just yesterday when my mother told me that destiny comes in all shapes and sizes. She said that life was beautiful. Life was amazing. Life was filled with the wonderous gifts of god and fabricated according to his wishes and plans.
Another foot sent my head reeling back with a groan escaping my mouth as the heel of a woman's shoe, unexpectedly and painfully struck the back of my throat.
Shock and interminable pain recoiled through my being as lightning turned my body into its vessel.
My memories superimposed against one another as my mind picked up something else. My father. Yes, another figure who helped shaped my life into what it is today, told me that life was like a bullet.
In a blink of an eye, it would hit you and make you question if everything was just a dream. Or it would graze passed your skin like a war soldier who believed that it was his lucky day. That he had just cheated the antithesis of life. Only to wake up the next day, willingly or unwillingly finding himself on the same battleground.
Metaphorically, he made it clear to me that life was a genderless bitch that would fuck you in the ass when you least expect it. A genderless bitch that would never give up till you reach the end game of your miserable existence.
Stupid, I know.
A pitiful thing to tell your 8 years old son who had just discovered that he could be a prince and save sleeping princesses from a behemoth larger than life evil dragon. However, as frustrating as it might have been, those words shattered the shaky glass of my still-developing imaginative lenses which I used to view the world with.
Hah!! Talk about tough love.
Another foot trampled and skidded off my face, bringing me back to 30 years later after I married a beautiful wife with two kids to call my angels….
My body lay tirelessly against the pavement road as the chaos ensured, sending more protesters to flee in all directions as they used my body as a stepping stone, not minding to check if the man being crushed below their feet was still alive or if they could somehow get him out of here so that his family, his little kids would not also have the same skewed view of life.
One good samaritan would have done the job!
Hah!! I can already see the news. 'Middle-aged officer male worker died from being stomped to death at a protest that turned violent'.
I lamented. I screamed internally for help because my jaws were too crushed and damaged for me to utter a word. There was nothing I could do. No hope for me to grab on. No man to pull up and give my life a saving grace. No god to grant me a miracle and give me another chance to live in faith.
Life was like a bullet, but the trigger was pulled unknowingly, and unexpectedly close to my skull through a mysterious chain of events that would leave the common man sighing out in defeat, and summarising both the minuscule and vast chain of events that formed the stage for such an unfortunate circumstance, saying... It's just life.
No big or incomprehensible words, it was just like that.
The last feet left my stomach as my life finished flashing before my eyes. Copper overwhelmed my mouth as I didn't have any hope of any medical services arriving on time to save my life.
I was as dead as a dead man could be!
The only thing that stung my heart was grief. Grief for my own death because of the people that I was living behind in this miserable crooked world.
After life was death, or so I believed. I imagined that there was nothing after that because there was nothing else to fantasise about a merciless incorporeal presentation of human mortality that took its victims without discrimination.
I imagined. I believed that when death taketh, it taketh completely -a small quote from one of my favourite writers with another skewed vision of life.
After all, dead men tell no tales, and without hearing what was on the other side, how could we imagine it?
So I concluded with my flesh and soul that death was the end.
However, ironically, as though spitting on my face and whipping my ass harder in a more fetish position than its counterpart.
Death took my body, opened my flesh, delivered my soul from its prison, took my imagination and thoughts, and rendered it.....
My soul shook. I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't see anything. I couldn't move, but yet, I could feel everything.
"Cthulhu R'lyeh …."
Reality wailed around me, as though it too shivered alongside my immaterial and everpresent soul.
Stillness. Silence. Everything stood still and my thoughts came to a halt.
It rendered my beliefs asunder.