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A tragedy exploring the severing of perfection.


Submitted:Mar 14, 2013    Reads: 33    Comments: 1    Likes: 2   


Rebellion

Let us be whisked away towards a land where even the grass and trees laugh with merriness and cheer. Creatures there are so perfect that Mother Nature could have chosen them herself, smiling. It is one of the happiest places on earth.

Young Tommy, of a mere three years of age, laughed as he played on the green. The pleasant, cheery voice of the little boy soothingly sung across the beautiful land. The sweetness of its note seemed to lightly touch the world and the wind whistled beautifully back. Tommy ran pleasantly, laughing. His blonde hair shone brighter than the brightest diamond and curled wonderfully, staying in place as his short legs flew him across the grass. In front of him tottered his sister, Issy, having only just learnt to stand. Despite being of a simple one year of age, her locks, of an equally brilliant golden flowed down her back like a beautiful meandering river of purity. Her delight at Tommy, her innocent delight at everything surrounding her, made her giggle honeyed notes of bliss. Both Tommy and Issy have strikingly blue eyes; they were eyes that explored the large world with such innocent curiosity that no joyful discovery could influence even the smallest of flies. But what was most amazing was their smile. The contagious bliss made even the most sorrowful and saddest of others, dealing with the most tumultuous of problems, forget and release all woes and simply smile too. It is as if you are on a trampoline. Once in the sky, and the world is magnificently swept away, there is the air, you, the extraordinary smiles and nothing else. The infinite moment gives a simple glimpse. They are smiles that you can only be blessed with seeing once or twice in a lifetime.

To the side of them, proudly stood their mother, keeping a watchful eye. Their perfection at play calmed her worries. Her attention glided towards the sight of their father trundling up the drive in his mechanical slave. As he stopped, feet motionless, he then clicked briskly open the doorway and hurried towards his family. He seems to have gorilla-like strength that bulges out of his clean dark suit. The clothing presses at every corner of his immaculate body as if drawn in by some unidentifiable force. His bulk carried power that courses through his body like a highly electrical cell. His dull brown hair looked like he had borrowed the colour from an oak tree and it ran along his forehead with trained elegance. His fast footprints make a large thunk each time they slam against the ground. Eventually, he reaches his position, joining his wife. His eyes sweep towards his young who cry with joy at the sight of their father, dancing and whirling in the clear air. His father suddenly flew Tommy high into the air up and caught him, laughing with joy. As the laughing subdued, Tommy reached out to place his hand upon his father's large face. The stubble of his brown beard upon his perfectly carved jaw always remained a great curiosity for Tommy. Tommy enjoyed the unusual spike as it gently pricked his small finger and the deep boom of laughter gave a rippling sensation, like an ocean in storm. Next to them, Issy had sailed and curled into the arms of her mother, protected by the skin in which her mother coats around her small frame. For Issy's mother, the happiness felt by the baby fed her joyous ecstasy. All she could do was smile down at her infantile daughter. Nothing disturb.

The children tear away suddenly and sprint across the lawn like dazzling fairies twinkling under the sun. But Tommy sees, to great excitement and interest, one of the arms of the mighty body of his father's unpaid servant is wide open. It is a hugely curved forged piece of metal, sticking out of the ground like a misshapen pustule upon the world. Its ears reflect the sunlight in such a way that it rejects and shuns right into the face of the warm sun. Its colour was of dark black, a colour that little Tommy only associated with this beast. The change enticed Tommy. Knowing nothing better, he followed a veiled call and wandered, almost skipping, over to it. It loomed at him as he approached and shined cunningly; it was a shine that had no relation with the blissful light in the sky, but of a dark shine within, as if the beating machine tapped into an energy form from elsewhere. Tommy drifted ever closer. What he sees next, beneath the face, is a shiny black rod. It protrudes from the centre, elongating and curving in the shape of a serpent. The evil glow invites lovingly towards Tommy's hand and Tommy obliges, of course. As Tommy clambers over, the floor hisses beneath his feet and he reaches the object. Tommy feels it stone cold to the touch, no natural light hits the thing, shaded in the darkest of darkness. Tommy smiled with perfect glee, and wanted. His miniscule arms slithered underneath, and he pulled.

And then the beast shrieked with manic glee as its chain was snapped and discarded! And its legs began to roll and roll and roll. And then Tommy laughed manically, he laughed and howled at the speed! The wind howled and roared in anger as they passed! And then a tiny, almost unfelt bump suddenly shook the car into a roar of guffaws. Cackles of hysteria reverberated around the posture of the fiend. But it didn't stop! No! It could not stop! Tommy, saw in front of him, a great mighty arm of a tree stop he and his trickster in their tracks! Suddenly they were covered in leaves! The beast and Tommy were unharmed.

Now let us flutter back a few seconds in time. The mother and father are turning to embrace one another. But let us turn away for that. We can see Tommy being lured, we can see him entering, we can see him travelling. But now we also see his father sprinting wildly at that very moment. Even with the wind at his back, the distance between him and Tommy mocks and teases him. It is so much that his long arms are as wide in front of him as possible, as if in some way this can make him reach. Reach in desperation. Too far old warrior, too far. He knows. He stops. He sobs.

But where is Issy? Oh, Issy is no more. For that tiny bump was the crushing, demolishing and annihilating vengeance of Issy's body being destroyed, twisted and made grotesque by the merciless feet of that horrid demon as it glided past. Issy's body is a broken mesh of blood and bone; there are rivers of intestines; spouts of evil black blood and a huge half circular rip through her tiny body (if you could still name it a body). Issy had not even understood the danger she was in. As the menacing creature, wickedly gleamed down upon her, she had laughed happily in wonder. And then her laughter was the last thing she would ever do upon this earth, and then she was smoothed in the monster's wake. Her father cries at her remains.

Tom, as he jogged over, saw something a three year old should never see. His parents are in uncontrollable anguish over the death of Issy. Their faces are ones of screwed up torture as they bleat in madness and terror. They look almost grotesque as they slam the ground and wail like infants. Tom then sees the blood of Issy moving and spreading across the ground, into the muddy grass. The grass does not move. It does not whistle. It just stands upright and motionless. Sombre. But the misery infects him and an inescapable crash of grief impales itself upon Tom's heart. It swirled and pulsated like a writhing beast within him. But he is not exclaiming his cry aloud like his parents. No he keeps. A fresh wave befell him at the sight of his parent's deep red eyes fixing him with a look. It was a look like two thistles, darting and elongating towards Tom. Tom's eyes hid within his eyeball, escaping as best he can. He felt leaves fall upon his muddy hair. A boom of agony was heard from above. Tom saw the sky weep and sent rain. Rain that followed and haunted him forevermore.

And that was that.





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