Creating a haze, trickling from the dark sky, snow umbrage upon this ambivalent town. What is in question? What Is creating uncertainty? Morals, beliefs and of course...terror.
"Jesus will save us all!" Screams one of the plethora of hobo's that filled these cobbled streets.
"Slaughter all of them! No man from the sky will save us! We must take control of this situation and KILL THEM ALL!" Shouts a man in a crowd.
The crowd rowdies together with the man, possibly in response to Jesus. Why are these people in fear? Why so uncivilized these days? I walk myself alone to the courthouse. Apparently a place of justice, or maybe a place of righteous indignation. You'd think in a world full of eyes people would see.
With every step I take my feet swallowed by the fluffy snow. I still remain a few blocks away from my dreaded destination. It's been about 2 months since the darkness took over. No light above, no sun to guide us. Farmers crippling to save their crops. People grow pale everyday. The black smog still remains unknown. However I begin to ask myself, where does the darkness really rest? How long before we see the reflection of our own created smog?
The inside of the courtroom is filled with restlessness. People are angry. People are finding themselves drawn to blame. At first it was the witches, then the children and now they search for anyone but themselves. But people must pay.
We gather for discussion, and then we decide her fate. On the trial, an old woman. I still remember her distraught face, perplexed in fear and reflecting back the mirror of their terror. But a mirror reflects both ways. Now we, the jury, decide which side we reflect.
"This seems simple. The lady needs to be punished for her sins and free us from the darkness." Juror 1 states.
"No there are no sins, there is no religion here we know the truth. She's a part of those damn terrorists I can see right through these people trust me." Juror 2 responds
"Whether it's God, or whether it's extremist, we can not be the executioner." Juror 3 asserts.
"Yah I agree who is to decide evil from good or even better right from wrong." Juror 4 draws a tie.
I face my own reflection. Not a woman, not a man but a person. I decide the fate of them. But I am no God, so who am I to make a decision? Could this be God's sick plan? Or maybe the terrorist's final attack.
"The lady has sinned. I believe she must pay so we can be baptized." Juror 1 asserts.
"The lady will die and see the judgment above." Juror 5 finalizes the fate.
In the street. In the open. Children scream. Adults scream louder.
"We need peace! We must stop this, we are no better than the clouds above!" Protestors shout and gather for an attempt to stop this. But the people have decided.
The lady is pushed to the ground. She is fully unclothed. Now above her head the guillotine. I check my phone to see that it is time for the execution. The lever is pushed and her final words are screamed.
"You will pay! HAIL THE UNION!"
Her head was off but her words still echoed. The union was the terrorist and once again we look in a mirror. But through the smog a glimpse of sunlight slowly emerged and the people of this ambivalent town went back to their lives as if it never left.
