The death diaries- a tribute to grief

A Story by MibdahJ

by Adner Jazz

Chapter I...DAMON...

A month younger to cross fifteen years of a lifetime, Damon was quite a boy and a quiet boy-he was an introvert yet a brilliant student, great at academics although weaker at co curricular activities. Twas so because he'd been brought up in a disturbed household and lost his mother when he was 7 year old. Being attached to his mother just as any son, he missed her all the time. Although his mourning was not apparent. He often hid his pains - maybe because there was none to listen - his drunkard father wouldn't come home till late, so he was all by himself. Time had done him great harm yet no one ever had him complaining about or expressing his miseries. Somehow he managed everything in his life but wonder what he did to get over with the loss of his dear mother.

Maybe writing a message or something on a card made him avoid or escape his worries because every time he did so, his face would lit up as good as a moon. He'd carry the card and go to some address to deliver it to or to someone after returning from the school. He would miss breathing but never ever stopped writing something of utmost importance on an small colored card. What was it, so relieving that lightened up the boy's face. No one ever knew.

Life hadn't been very kind and his father brought some other woman to the house. Even knowing that Damon would never let anyone take his mother's place,he allowed the illegitimate woman to ruin the little peace that did rounds in Damon's life. Damon took with him nothing but the memorable things that belonged to his mother and left.

Damon's broken family had had a terrible history. He didn't lose his mother to any disease or something, she was murdered, by his father. His parents never were on good terms and when one day, Damon's mother refused to pay the expenses for his booze, he murdered her in cold blood. The then seven year old Damon was dumb struck thence. "Am alone now",whispered his aggrieved heart but his lips remained sealed .The carcass of his deceased mother was buried at mid night and Damon had been directed to forget what had happened. He didn't forget it-no part of it.

Damon wanted a bit of peace which permitted him a good night's sleep now, which after his father left was no longer too big a problem. The new woman had gotten him moved from his house to hers. She sure wasn't very kind hearted for she knew that Damon would be left alone with no one to take care of, if his father moved out of the house. All that her benevolent heart had to offer was that Damon's father could pay him a visit once a week. But he didn't. Sure wasn't a good father.

CHAPTER II.......................HELLO,GOODBYE FRIEND!

Bertrand and Damon would visit each other's residences very oft, for they were friends - if not, then good classmates. Bertrand loved Damon. a lot and would confide in him every modicum detail about his life. Damon, on the other hand was clearly not interested in sharing his very personal history with Bertrand - the only person he would talk to. Although this disinterest from Damon's side didn't make Bertrand like him any less.

One morn, as usual, both friends met one another at the end of the street near the post box. Damon was late - than ever before. He had to deliver the card. Today, he had written a lot - that's what took him long. Anyway, Bertrand didn't mind his confidante's late arrival and had on mind that if Damon wouldn't come, he wouldn't go to school either.

In the school bus the boys had been discussing various topics, and ended up talking about the significance of a complete and happy family. Bertrand, being an amateur debater also joined the group. He accidentally enquired of Damon's convictions on the topic - a happy family.

Damon gave a depressed look and disembarked the vehicle asap. Bertrand followed him, knowing that he had hurt Damon severely. Trying hard to stop his friend, he repeatedly was avoided by Damon, who immediately rushed to the washroom, in tears. Bertrand was waiting outside for Damon to get out, but his waiting was interrupted by the professor's order to attend the class. He tried not to, but had to go to the class, with the professor following him. Poor Bertrand left with a regretful heart and wanted to see Damon badly. Even in the class he couldn't help but think of Damon. As soon as the bell rang, another professor entered the class. So happened till the last period.

The bell rang and Bertrand rushed out to find Damon wherever possible. He knew that what had happened would have hit Damon's jugular vain, because of which maybe Damon hadn't attended any class and had stuck in the washroom. Bertrand was done checking in almost every toilet booth, but Damon couldn't be found anywhere. Now he had to check just one booth -the last of those-which Bertrand opened to find none there.

The school was empty by then. No one noticed when Bertrand entered the washroom and why he never returned. He had been followed by and put to death in the booth-the last booth. Though no one could find his body there but his watch and wallet smeared in blood proved to be clear evidences of his death. The college administration didn't want any trouble so they didn't let the police investigate. After all, the dignity of the school would have been lost, had the news of the murder been spread.

CHAPTER III......................UNCONVINCED

The next day, as usual, Damon reached the end of the street to find Bertrand absent, he boarded the bus without waiting for his good mate for even a moment. Maybe twas his anger over the incident that occurred yesterday.

Now that Bertrand wasn't there, he didn't talk to anyone else. He remained quiet all the way to the school. After reading the notifications or updates on the bulletin board, Damon headed towards the class - in no rush at all-infact a snail would have raced him out, for he was too slow and shut out. His face was expressionless.

He reached the class-late, which made the professor fire at him. The history professor was known for his hot temperament. He lashed out at Damon and mistakenly remarked that Damon's parents had produced a burden which even they couldn't handle. Damon gave him a fiery look at which the teacher furiously remarked ill of Damon's mother, which hurt him particularly.Atlast, the teacher contained himself for he realised that he'd been over aggressive and also learned that Damon's mother was dead. Damon was crying, sitting at the last bench in the extreme left corner.

During the lunch break, the professor approached Damon and apologized for being rude earlier. Damon gave him a smile, which obviously was not genuine. He offered the teacher a chocolate flavoured donut as a token of forgiveness. The teacher accepted it and passed a heartfelt smile at the child seated beside him. The apparent discussion was convincing enough to make both of them realise that they were at peace and had burnt the hatchet-maybe one of them wasn't very convinced as yet.

The next sunny morn, Damon, alone all over again, did the same as the other day i.e attending the classes except the history class.

'Condoling the demise of Prof Hepburn, the great but furious History genius' read the bulletin board. The institution was losing its members one by one-to whom remained the question.

Chapter.....IV WHEN THE DEAD SAID "LIVE

Damon was not unkind. The world had, been ruthless to the child. Like everyone, he too longed for a happy, life. Well if not happy then why sad, he said when evaluating the progress that he'd made In life. He'd ever since seen his parents fighting and later his mother dead . He no more felt any bit s of love, or...no, yes there was a slight in fact an extremely slight glint of ardor in him. But what's hope then !"a nothing magnified to everything".

Something made Damon want to see others others happy, when he was so much in gloom. He held back his tears and 'put on' a smile-he had it in him- inexpressible nature.

A child deprived, saw another wanting to end his life. I. E., miseries. No no no cried Damon as he pulled the child off the railway track. It was a close call which would have, if not hurried, might have killed both the rescuer and the rescued. Damon made the child understand that he would have to live more to realise whether or not should he end his journey. "Live or you wont ever die",said Damon . "It's a race, child where you have to try everything in your power to, if not win, not let life win",Damon said encouraging the child to never look back.

CHAPTER V... HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!

What worsened Damon's grief was the echoes of mothers calling him as good as a son. It only made him feel dead to realise that he was not a son, anymore.

The next morning, which was a day earlier to weekend i.e.,Thursday, Damon rose from the bed an hour earlier for he'd been having nightmares. Everything happened as usual... no, not so usual anymore. Damon had been writing three different cards now,but delivered them to the same address.

At school, where everybody was celebrating the day hurtful for Damon - mothers day, Damon avoided being caught in any of the event's celebration. He sat at the same left corner, where he'd been crying the other day,lamenting the loss of his mother all alone. This was what Damon had always been like-keeping his griefs to himself. No sooner did he leave the campus and rushed to the address, where he'd been delivering his letters.

In the interim, the school had burnt down to ashes. There had been a gas leek in the school's canteen, killing everybody celebrating - including the mothers. This 'accident' made Damon feel not bad. Now many were motherless, and mothers childrenless. Twas justice to him. His griefs minimised to a great extent. Strangely, he felt relieved and he felt strangely relieved. This weekend turned out to be the one that he celebrated, writing more and more and more than enough as if he'd been writing eulogies to each person, killed in the massive 'accident' that had occurred the previous day. Was he?

CHAPTER V..... HAIL THE JOKER

Twas a fun fair at.....Everybody was in a mood to celebrate with Damon as an exception. He shut the doors and windows of his little lodge and most importantly his ears. He was perturbed by the sound of beating drums and the trumpet. The festivity didn't suit his taste. He lay disappointed on his bed and closed his eyes to enter the world of dreams.

The populace was enjoying the event to a great extent. This was an event for the people who'd faced a massive crisis in the recent past. There was the giant wheel, the pendulum, and many such games for the children to enjoy. The parents of these bundles of joy entertained themselves by relishing in drinks over cinema. The fair was very fair,but any fun moment is incomplete without having a joker to celebrate with. The joker as is the tradition, caught everybody's attention. His mask with a smiling face had concealed his griefs and he was cracking jokes. His humour added to the fun. These moments of laughter wild and wooly didn't last long. There was an explosion which had no explanation. All died-everybody?. It was midnight.

The police forces investigated the matter thoroughly. All they could find was a mask-a smiling joker mask. The city had reduced to ruins in no time. Two incidents of massive destruction had disturbed the little peace existential. Many people started fleeing away from the place - they could no longer bear with the mysterious happenings in the once-at-peace city of Versailles.

About Damon, he couldn't stop writing and... delivering. Almost a ghost town, the city had become a graveyard with mourners

roaming in and around. This solitude had proven to be healthy and blissful for Damon's little dissatisfied heart for he didn't have to see people-happy-for there was pain all around, as if the pain that he since tolerated had been distributed equally amongst the townspeople. Not that Damon was happy now, he was a little less sad now.

CHAPTER VI....................MERRY CHRISTMAS

The town was empty of most of the populace by Christmas. Not all could afford migration, so these families had to stay. The two episodes of genocide had taken place at moments of joy and festivity and had turned the festive tones into doleful dirges. Somehow convincing themselves, these families hoped that all would be well this eve.

Decorating the Xmas tree with nothing but letters-some enveloped in love and some full of hatred. The letters scented with love were for his mother. But why the letters full of hatred. Whom were these for?

As Damon was busy baking his mother's favourite chocolate chip cookies that evening, the belligerent drunkard-Damon's father-barged in. Belittling the murderer of his mother, Damon warned him to get out. His father tried to convince Damon that he had changed for good but in vain. The toxicity that had Damon's memories didn't allow him to let the killer live for another moment. The Xmas tree fell on Damon's father and killed him. Damon waited till midnight and buried him beside the townspeople!

'I completed my eulogy today mom.I kept my promise.I took my revenge.

Here's your Xmas present',said Damon, presenting his father's dead carcass before his mother's grave-with his heart at peace for the first time.

CHAPTER VII.... REMINISCING

Leaning by the gravestone of his mother, he started remembering how he'd killed these people. The gas leak that'd occurred on the mother's day wasn't an accident. Damon had left the knob in the canteen open which lead to the leakage of gas.

Damon stood up and started walking around the graveyard, reading the names on the gravestones.

He remembered everything - how as a joker, he joked about the innumerable lives of innocent people.

Atlast he remembered the reason that had destroyed the purpose of his life. The scene of his mother's murder was fresh in his memories. He could remember how easily his father had put his mother to death.

He unpacked his backpack. Taking out the letters and cards that he'd been writing ever since,tears rolled down his already red cheeks. These were the messages that he'd been writing his mother, good mate, Bertrand, the history professor and all those killed in the two destructive incidents.

He took the letters and started reading them out aloud with maudlin eyes and a broken heart.

CHAPTER VIII..LETTERS TO THE GRAVES..

"MAMA , I LOVE YOU LOADS AND I MISS YOU. DAD SAYS THAT YOU WON'T EVER COME BACK. BUT I KNOW THAT YOU WILL, FOR ME,

YOUR SON

DAMON"

These were the words that read Damon's very first letter to his murdered mother. He was a 7-year old then. His vocabulary and maturity were nor very healthy then as now.

Now his grief was intensified and also he had quite stepped out of an imaginative world and now knew that his dad was right - his mom had gone to never come back. He would write to his dead mother all that he had to go through in her absence. He was but immature to complaint to a dead person whom he believed to be the ultimate reason of his joys but the most important source of his sorrows.

"I know that you have left me long back, but I can't get past this miserable truth. Not a single soul can embrace me as good as you did.. Bertrand gave his best and I lost him...,to myself...Prof Hepburn tried, and soon he died...

I love you mama, beyond limits

Come back even if you can't.

Your lonely son

Damon"

"Damon wrote three cards now"-one to his mother, the other to Bertrand and one to professor Hepburn. He wrote to his mother all about his miseries. What he wrote to the other two was always a complaint that no-one had the right to speak ill of his family and wrote whatever in a horrid language.

Everyday he would write as dreadful or even more disheartening messages to his good dead schoolmate and the fiery history professor.

During the weekend after the massive accident in his school, Damon wrote more and more.He wrote letters, numerous of them to anonymous people for he didn't know the names of the dead.

CHAPTER IX...OVER TO DEATH...

They say that a lie leads to infinite others and a kill to many. It appears that the last one to get killed is the killer . So was true in his case. Damon had to kill himself to end his grief forever. Twas the moment that he'd been waiting for, since and forever. Though it was his time to die, he was at peace. This was an unimaginably exciting moment for him. He no more would be haunted by the unimaginably painful sounds in his nightmares, he didn't have to cry forever with guilt in his heart because it wouldn't beat anymore. He was free now. He was better off dead. He lay beside his mother's grave. He had never ever felt so alive, now when he was close to death.

What pinched Damon in his last moments was the guilt, that is what forbade a smile to make its way to his poor face. He realised that he had done all wrong, that murdering in cold blood only minimised his grief temporarily making him feel that he had a company to share his griefs with. He had dedicated his life to pain altogether.

The only five-six families that had stayed there were rejoicing an upcoming birth already. Damon, could hear them celebrating and having fun. Huh, how could they get past those miseries?, thought Damon. 'I never could', Damon closed his tired eyes, and made through the transitional world to the eternal one.

The already celebrating family had a new member added. He breathed his first when Damon did his last.A devil died, who was the new born to become. The little bundle of joy was named Damon...