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Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Quiet Massacre


The Quiet Massacre
Chrysania Marie Monroe

I was coming down a set of outside stairs and began looking out over everyone. With no anger in my heart, no vengeance to be sought I imagined myself with a gun.The one I envisioned was long and black, like a rifle from a war movie. Every time I wanted to shoot I had to twist this lever left, pull it back, and release the trigger. This gun, this metal and powder would sit over the top of the wall that came up to my chest, you know the ones that make sure you don’t fall over the edge. Then bullet by bullet I would send out for them to drink. They’d rush in anguish, some of them not even knowing why or what they were running from. Of course some, if not righteous than selfless guy would try to be heroic and come dashing at me in attempts to sweep me off my feet, knocking me down…it would be a shame, for a split second I would aim the gun over at him as he comes flying up the steps. He would take one in the stomach and reluctantly reverse his travels falling backward. Again, I would redirect my attention and the gun to the crowd struggling to escape yet finding all of the gates locked, all of the doors bolted, all of their futures even more non-existent than before. All of this happens in what seems to be slow motion. And the sites were horrific although I intended to spread no fear. These people used their friends as human shields and found it quite a shock when their cellular phones had all the textbook answers, but not one on how to stay alive. I suppose no one called the police because it wasn’t programmed into their phone and perhaps they had forgotten the number. And when the clicks and clanks of the gun halted, next to a paradox of silence came or at least the most calm I have ever experienced swayed over screams, washing them clean. It was queer, the smell of the gun residue mixed with the hot bullets still steaming in their skin, echoes that sounded like whispers of all the distress murmured against the next to perfect silence. I laid down the gun seeing how there was no need for it anymore. Daintily, for I meant no harm, I swept pass the hero suffering from internal bleeding and continued on toward the field of what humanity would from now view as the “could have been”, “would have been”, and “should have been”. I spotted an engagement ring bounded and promised to a woman’s finger, her body trampled, yet still possessing the whitest teeth I had ever seen. I bent down curiously discovering and uncovering her face how a flower would open so naturally to the inviting sun. I kissed her. I kissed her knowing somewhere a man would never again touch her body when it was still just as warm as when I stole from her cooling lips something that obviously wasn’t mine. Then I saw the most darling little girl whose hair was the reason envious women have bleach bottles in their bathroom cabinets. Oh so gently did I lift her as I took the liberty to swirl her into a playful swing and dance and it seemed so much untainted youth was found that all of the bodies would rise up and we would all be a part of a smashing masquerade. However, the sun wanted to set and I had no ability to interfere. So I lay the little girl down next to a grandmother type who looked loving and competent enough to care for someone who was so inexperience and that would have needed so much guidance. With that I saw him, and then inhaled as if sucking on a cancer stick as he slipped his hand over my face and, “Shhh…”

1 comment:

  1. Mk, so I finally got around to reading your blog, I've got to say that I like it. This one in-particular I love. I am going to give a little bit of constructive criticism, first off, I would say cut the first line, you just don't really need it. apart from that a some grammar problems, and a few parts that were just a little over defined it's great, I love it, there's a feeling as you read it that makes you wonder, are they really killing everything or are they really just imagining it? you're never really sure one way or the other. it's almost as though they believe this is just one more of there fantasies but it's all to real to the people around them.

    anyway, great work

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