World War 4: Sticks and Stones

Destiny

I heard crying from every corner. I heard screams of fear. Some screams were of anger. There was chaos. Complete disarray. What was going on? Why had everyone fallen from the beautiful peace that was this bunker? I ran through walls of people. I pushed through them. All I wanted to know was what was going on. Then I saw it. There was Ben hugging a lifeless body with everything that he had. His cries were the loudest of all. I could only see just his head through the small cracks in the walls of fully grown people. I was just a child, but I pushed as if I were as strong as a bodybuilder. I ran through. I was out of breath, but I made it. I grabbed Ben by the arm. "Ben? What happened? What did you do?" Ben took a shallow breath through his heartbreak. "I did it, Destiny, I killed him." My heart did not want to fill with anger. I gave everything I could to keep myself from hating Ben in this moment, but I couldn't stop myself. I peeled him away from Peter and I threw him to the ground. The crowd was silent as a river of blood poured from his face. I expected retaliation, but it never came. I watched as he lay there, speechless, breathless, and now, without my love, completely alone. He just cried. He said nothing. His hands were trembling. His body had to be in pain. I hated Ben, I wanted to throw him again, but as I went towards him, I saw a piece of paper in Peter's hands: "trust him." I stopped myself just enough to look into Peter's eyes. Then I looked into Ben's. Peter's eyes were more alive. Ben was the one who died. I sat down by Ben's head. I said nothing. I was waiting for Ben to speak. I motioned the crowd away. They wouldn't leave. Finally, I yelled at them and reluctantly they left after a few tries. Finally, Ben spoke to me. "Destiny, my life is meaningless now." I took his head and placed it into my lap. Peter died, but he had enough time to write out his note. I wondered if this meant that Ben stopped himself before he directly ended Peter's life. My anger for Ben turned to empathy. Even after stopping himself from ending Peter's life, he still had no choice but to watch helplessly as the breath left his lungs. Ben truly was fated in killing Peter. He had no choice, but what if it was only part of his purpose? What if it was just a glimpse into what he truly had to do. "dad." He turned to me. "Remember when we looked at the people together?" He smiled just slightly and nodded. "What if that's your purpose?" He didn't say anything. 

Peter was lying, content, seemingly fulfilled, but you could tell he did not go gently. Ben was nearly dead. Dripping with tears, covered in an ocean of sweat and blood. This was not the condition of a man who killed with no retaliation, but of one who riled, who clawed with intention. Why can I trust Ben? I looked down at the note again. "Trust him." I shook my head. Why? Why could I trust him? Peter did not allow death to come. Peter did not allow Ben his satisfaction. Peter had every reason to wish for Ben's downfall, but instead, "trust him," it said. "Trust him." It could have been Ben's note. My head was spinning with possibilities. Was Peter bribed? "Tell them to trust me and I'll spare you," Ben said in my mind. He said it over and over again. I tried not to let myself fall back into rage. I tried not to let my vision become cloudy. But the world. The world, it spun around me. Everything combined into a nauseating blur. The muted browns and greys of the world I lived in before combined into one color. One I could not describe if I tried. But when I closed my eyes, the spinning stopped. When I closed my eyes, I did not have to try not to let my vision become blurry because I saw nothing. I took myself to my imagination. I imagined what I thought that a plant might look like. I took myself to a grassy field. And I sat myself down. And there, I closed my eyes. I took a step closer to my father, who was laying there in his own clouded visions, and I welcomed him into my field. We lied there in my images of grass, and we fell asleep. In the real world, I was lying between Ben and the body of Peter. "Dad, we will figure this out later, just lie with me for a second." He could not get up if he tried, so we lied there. I invited them both to my imaginary field. And there we were. All three of us slept, away from the world. Away from the blood and of the gore, and of the monsters of the world. Instead, we lied there and there we found peace. In less than a moment, it was all disrupted by the sounds of terror of the people in the bunker. I had to explain.