Death Is Happiness

Bitter reality represented as a story

I woke up to the sound of a gunshot. You would think I should be terrified, but no- this was too usual. I stretched and slowly removed the dirty rags which I called 'sheets'. Slowly getting up, I wondered who it was this time? I walked over to the window, opening it only to feel the hot June air hit my face. The sun dazzled my eyes so I stepped back. My sight adjusted to the light in a few moments so i looked down. 

There he was, Mr. Jacobs, his lifeless body lying in the middle of the street, a few people gathering around him. His tan skin was now pale as snow, a dark red liquid slowly oozing from from his chest. In a few minutes I saw his wife rushing towards him, her tear strained face was an awful sight. Kneeling down, she took her head in her lap as she started bawling her eyes out. Beside her i noticed the little figure- his son. His eyes were wide as he stared at lifeless body of his father. He was too young to understand that the man who shielded him from every danger was now no more. I smiled for Mr.Jacobs. He was in peace which a good man like him deserved and no this is not a religious person saying, this is a person who has faced reality saying.

I went to the bathroom to take a shower. I took a look around before stripping of my clothes, making sure there were no cameras. I let the cold water pour down my body as I stared blankly at the shower hose. Sometimes I wondered if blood would come out of those tiny holes. After all, where does the blood of those human beings who are being killed everyday go?

I put on a hoodie and hit the streets. I hadn't walked even for a few minutes when I started sweating. I cursed the heat but it is  a way of nature. Just like death once was. But now man has snatched this way from nature and now we decide who dies everyday.

From the corner of my eye, I see a man staring at me. I caught a glimpse of his face. He had quite handsome features but no I didn't blush. I didn't feel the butterflies. I just wondered if I was going to be raped tonight.

So tell me, what is this place we live in? Everyday we do good deeds so that we do not have to go to hell but is this place any better? This is a world where brothers kill brothers, where life is as vulnerable as glass, where a girl cannot cannot go out with the assurance that she will be safe, where no one can guarantee a child that he can live a happy wholesome life with his parents. This is a world where everyone runs after money, where there is no difference between a man and a dog. And the saddest part is we are the only ones responsible for this. 

Now when i see a murder, i simply smile. Call me crazy, but I feel death is happiness.

Author's Note

I was really disturbed by some things that happened around me and i kind of realized that we have turned this world into hell but we can change things if we try.What do you think?

Reviews

[RachelReaper]

Some things are worse than death and it becomes a blessing, its sad to say.... thought the chapter was very descriptive and great

[Hidden Happiness]

Thank you reaper and yeah its really sad:-).

[Leslie Philibert]

This is very drastic, but what I admire is the way you use negative pictures to transport a positive message, that you reject violence, and that the last line
has been created by that, what you really want not to accept. Good work.

[Hidden Happiness]

well yes it was really an intention of mine to spread a message through something negative..thank u so much for reviewing cuz it really helps knowing what people think:-). and ill make sure i return the favour:-).

[Talismanic]

I don't usually say omg, but I will if it's any way at all to express how confronting this is, and how staggeringly AMAZING YOUR WRITING!!! This shows such mature observation and insight; and serious, passionate concern for your universal family. :)) We live a blindly cosey life, (many of us), somewhere in between destruction, anarchy, corruption, sickness, death, violence... heaven from hell maybe. So what is most frightning is our numbness and apathy: to our own race, how inhumane we are. We know, and yet we do not want to care, about other's struggles so long as we think we are safe, so long as their 'unfortunate' lives can be comfortably forgotten, "out of sight and out of mind." You can turn this around. You know how to take your reader into the palm of your hand, into the scene, and into your character's head, so that we feel the paralysing dread and shock and outrage she cannot. We imagine ourselves in her situation and want to fight for her. You draw out tension with such immaculate precision, the reality behind the story has head-on impact. 'I didn't blush. I didn't feel the butterflies. I just wondered if I was going to be raped tonight.'
...
Keep on writing in all its bitterness.
This has mastership. You have a gift.

[Hidden Happiness]

sometimes i just wanna write to get you reviews...thank you so much ..you inspire me a lot:-).