"Tell her I'm going to laugh."
His sick grin was anything but effortless. From the universe of his cell he ruled a flaming empire. He knew his captors saw him as the most uncool person alive, refusing to speak his reason after throwing acid on an unsuspecting hope of a friend. She was marked for life - he for all eternity.
"Yeah...if she comes back tell her I'm going to laugh. She's a moron to have ever let me get that close. Must be something wrong with her, I'd say. She's so perfect she'll go on and live her life anyway. So she comes back, I'm going to laugh at her ugly face. Tell her that."
His jailers were unmoved. "A further judgment has been held stating that the entirety of your assets are hereby forfeited to her."
"Who cares? Take it all. What do I care in prison? Nothing means nothing."
As his jailers turned to depart, a sea of fear rushed in at the thought of yet again returning to be alone with his demons. "Hey, you tell her what I said!"
***
Doomed devils pierced mercilessly upon his soul if he dare rest his eyes. "No one will ever love you now!" For their accusations he had no reply. "Face it! Your life is over! Who would trust an acid thrower? Monster!" Secretly he was glad his assets would be given over to her. However small, it was a way to make amends. There was certainly nothing in himself of value.
The future is lost
He felt more ugly than her face could ever be. That secret he believed he must take to his ignored grave. In the deepest parts of the night, the darkness swallowed him whole. Betrayal. Is there a worse crime? He needed a connection to her. He could have love, but he settled for hate. Every time she looks in the mirror she will think of him. That thought possessed him, ate on him, strangled him, right up until the moment of madness disfigured her. He himself had always been disfigured.
Grasping at moral straws, he flailed and wailed night and day. Every argument for hope slipped through his fingers. His health dripped away like steady drops of blood. Worst of all, he'd just assumed his rejection, unable to let he know of his need. He was blessing her by being out of her life. That made his act of evil holy. Saying that only makes the demons laugh, though. It seemed to him at this point, the worst possible thing that could happen would be to find out he had something to offer all along.
***
"Allah, no. Can't be..."
A man of immense wealth had read of her story, donating part of his fortune to cover her medical costs and make her financially independent for life.
"No! No! You must reject her. She's mine! No one can accept her hideous face!"
His assets were rejected, untouched. His gamble had failed. She would think of him now every time she looks in the mirror. Connection severed, he'd been left to himself.
How do I live with this?? How can I trust myself?? Judas was right! Kill me now! Allah, please. My breath has no purpose. I did it for nothing!
Each day he died, an immortal left without food, starving to death over and over, no way out. He'd made a joke of his life and now the joke was on him. Why does understanding come too late? Why must men march off to war to find out it's wrong? Why does the world assign no value to the soul? Must the world die to figure out the wrongness of its ways? A living death, the fangs of the asp never shaking loose, dying without killing.
He'd been lying about the laughing, of course. Truth is, he feared her laughing at the sight of him.
"DON'T LEAVE ME HERE! DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! OH, ALLAH, DON'T LEAVE ME TO MYSELF."
No comments:
Post a Comment