Alas! The court declared its verdict. Justice has been served, for I have been pronounced guilty as I have been charged. As I am told my fate and accept my sentence, the people rejoice. They base their happiness on my peril. Nevertheless, here I am at quarter-to-two, worrying my little head off about the little time I have left in this untrusting, defeatist world. As a sword hangs over my head, and a weight pulls down my heart, my life plays before my eyes; everything I loved but have to leave behind, everything that burdens me and I can’t wait to leave behind. My regrets can count many, but at this unnerving hour, nothing could matter more than my wish for a swift capture into the next dimension. But, one day my story will be known, maybe through a book my burden shall be borne.
The story of that windy, pleasant day; amused by two adventurous, yet ill-fated people. The wind hummed songs of zest, the air thick with the fragrance of thrill. My heart thrummed with elation, my knees weakened with apprehension. Everything seemed complete. I felt content. As we ascended into the skies, our faces beamed with pure joy. My key source of all happiness and good things smiled before me. There she crouched; beautiful as ever. Wind blowing through her hair, her beautiful brown eyes a window to her soul which held for me a love so unconditional. Her cries of encouragement and good cheer fell into the deaf ears of a man so captivated by her etherealness. “Gustav! Let’s fly together!”, she exclaimed as we took a leap of faith jumping out of that foreboding plane. I remember it all. The feeling of suspense. Everything paused. The air sucked out of my lungs, as we became one with the air we dropped into. The blinding beauty of the ether. The equally flustered yet cheery face of my love, Astrid. And then it all came back to us, reality hit us. We truly were flying! The earth looked so beautiful from up there. Our problems seemed so insignificant, so little. Our home as I knew it looked like the paradise I believed it to be. And there was the border, separating my people from the ones I know here. Tensions between my country and this one were undoubtedly high. Crossing clearly marked skies would be a foolish man’s ambition. But, as the winds of fate would have it, crossing the line separating adventure and absurdity was written for me. I crossed the border of home into the alien. A wave of panic extinguished the deep serenity. The feeling of helplessness, hopelessness, and harsh acceptance, all combined into one is a feeling I can’t seem to shake. The realization that my beloved was set on a path divergent from mine broke me. All would have been endurable had I had her. However, all was going to fail me, I was going to lose my everything.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, I started my rapid descent into my doom. As I began to realize gravity couldn’t have cursed me more, my seeming saving grace jolted me upwards into the fleeting peace of a gentle landing. As though my heart wasn’t already stirred, my parachute succoured me to gaze into the eyes of my misfortune as time held its horses. What would be the flora of my current nightmares appeared in front of me; a tree grown to be a thorn in my side. I recall the sheer horror as I correctly predicted the near future. My parachute stuck in the conifer, and I in my parachute; stranded and petrified. As I shut my eyes and braced for impact, I could still see everything so vividly; my cannon into my kismet. The unforgettable heat embraced me, like the fire that engulfed my fated tree.
I can no longer discern whether the near miss of my demise on that ablaze tree is something in the name of gratitude just as much as the distance between me and my better half had become a new blessing in hindsight. As I saw cavalry come to rescue me, my poor heart rejoiced with naivete. Little did I know my saviours were indeed enemy-hired mercenaries. Adversaries who would magnify innocence into hostility. And thus began my journey hustling towards my final exit.
The end is near, I can feel it before it begins. Back to the beginning, I return; alone and destitute. However, contrary to the start, I suffer the absence of hope but enjoy being unhinged. Nothing stands in the way of my destiny. I may be shackled but my thoughts run unfettered. Am I dreaming or have I perished; don’t know which I would rather. Does an angel or a saviour stand before me now, how do I tell, how must I decide? As they present to me a key; a key to the gates of heaven or the key to life.
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