What Is and What Should Never Be

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Read from Auker J Wells piece " What Have I Done".
https://www.booksie.com/546016-what-have-i-done

Created: November 15,2018

Submitted: November 03, 2018

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Submitted: November 03, 2018

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what have i done

By

Auker J Wells

 

Soft piano music echo's through my vast living room, A gust of wind traveling through the open windows, brushes against my skin and the tiring sun's pinkish glow treats my thoughtful gaze, as it slowly retreads behind the distant mountains. A sun completely oblivious of what he would see when he returns the next morning to greet me again.

 

Peace... yet this dread I feel in my stomach prevents me from being able to appreciate any of it. I have made a terrible decision.

 

I hear crying from a room down the hall. My infant son. Had I not dismissed my maids and house keepers so early, I would order one of them to go and care for the boy. However keeping them as late as i often do wasn't right considering what was to come. It was important that they spend their final moments with the ones they love.

 

I rise from my arm chair and make my way down the hall. The boys' room is dark; blinds drawn over the window above his crib. The setting sun spills between the thin blades of the metal window blinds drawing thin lines of Orange light onto dark blue walls.

 

I step closer to the crib, and look down at the tiny, blue-eyed human. His red hair, so fine, you'd think his scalp was spray painted a bright shade of copper. A beautiful child, and yet I have bothered not to acquaint myself with it. In the past, I hadn't felt it necessary to be present for this infant.

 

I had much more pressing matters, to attend to. A country to run, for example. Today is different; Sparse of work. I have time to meet with this son of mine, and if I want this final day to End peacefully, I will need to do just that.

 

I lift him from his crib, supporting his head with my left bicep and carry him into the living room, lightly bob the child in my arms, and swinging with the piano music while softly shushing him. the boy falls silent. I look fondly into his eyes. a beautiful pair of blue pupils stare back at me curiously. The only thing he inherited from his father. The freckles and red hair didn't come from me.

 

“Dada” the boy coos

 

The word catches me off guard and I smile sadly. "Yes. Dada. That's right."

 

A tear falls from my cheek and my chest tightens. Had Yargine told me exactly what he wanted from me, I wouldn't have even considered becoming a father. Had I known how it all would end from the start, I would never have started a family. But It's too late now.

 

I sit at my arm chair in front of the fireplace and stare into the child's curious little eyes.

 

Tears run town my cheeks as I spew hicks of regret and pull my son closer to my chest. “I'm sorry” I weep quietly ”I'm so sorry”.

 

The baby studies my sadness with a blank confused expression, and tries to mimic my words and generating barely intelligible results.

A loud, distant boom redirects my attention. The ground begins to shake as I shoot upward, and walk to the balcony with my son in hand. I gawk fearfully at the shock wave expanding outwards from the very center of the caldera I build my house beside. The first target has been hit

 

“Damn you Yargine.” I hiss to myself “damn you to hell!” Just then, a wave of force shatters the window of my home and sends me flying backward with my furniture. I feel give in the floor beneath me. The ground is collapsing.

 

The baby is screaming in my arms now. He doesn't deserve this. I must give him a chance to live. I scramble to my feet and scurry off to the pantry where I keep the baby food. I spin around and pluck a basket from the counter. Holding my son with one arm.

 

I drop the basket to the ground in front of the pantry, frantically tossing in jars of mashed peas, corned beef and baby formula as my home attempts to shake me off my feet. I pick up the basket of food and begin to search for safety. But another clash of seismic force tosses me upward as my son flies from my arms.

 

I anticipate a horrendous impact as I imagine the baby flying into a wall with the force of a bullet. Disgusted tremors seize my body. I shake violently and whale with anger.

 

I dare not look up. I dare not see where the child landed. Yet somehow; In the storm of furniture, splinter, and broken glass; I hear him, cooing pleasantly. He is still alive; safe and sound amid the chaos of my fallen mansion.But my relief shatters as a piece of ceiling falls on me. Something impales me through my back, pinning me to the ground. I manage to lift my head but my vision is blurred. A metallic taste fills my mouth. I spew and the ground before me spatters with red

 

I'm dying...

 

I see a pair of glowing white eyes looking down at me from the entrance of my kitchen, their radiance distorting the head and body they belong to. my sight wanes as blood continues to flow from my impalemen but i force my self to focus and notice a bundle in his arms.; a child; my son! Suddenly as if triggered by my acknowledgment, the radiant gaze erupts with a bright flash and vanishes.

 

I shout wheezily. I know he is far gone but I scream on the off chance that he can still hear me from where ever he disappeared to “I'LL KILL YOU! Get back here and finish me you COWARD!”

 

My body screams for air. I try to breathe only to hack up another pool of red, confirming that crimson has flooded my loungs.

 

I can see through what remains of my balcony from here. I look out at the warm evening sky one last time, and imagine soft piano music playing in the background. I cant see it yet, but I know it's there; a tsunami of hot stone and ash plundering toward me. The tremors in the ground growing more violent as it approaches.

 

I close my eyes and focus on the tune in my head. I hum to the song as I remember it. I cough again, but still I try to follow the music as the world around me goes dark.

 

I open my eyes once more and the last thing I see is the storm of pumice swallowing my home; tearing what remains of it to shreds.

Everything goes black. the beautiful piano music reverberates in the darkness of my final dying thoughts.

 

And just when I think it's all over, a deep guttural voice booms in my fading mind.

 

“Get up, Sabastian. You are not this weak,” I't tells me.

“You can’t cast your revenge on Yargine if you're dead.”

 

 


© Copyright 2018 Dr. Acula . All rights reserved.

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