With Grief

เนื้อเรื่อง

I am crying, as I have been crying for days and nights. None can put my sorrow to the end though they have been trying so hard to explain my incident on that terrible night. But I know those words are all redundancies, because there are no ways to purify my body, the cursed body.

        I love my dad; he has a sound mind and body. He is a highly respected man as if you can see a light above his head like the angels. He has knowledge more than all of the people in his ages could ever earn, yet he keeps it and turns himself from a noble into a farmer. He marries my mother and settles his life with three children in a big farm at the south western coast of Europe.

        It is my time to go to bed now, but I won\'t sleep until I give out my confession. I can lie to the whole earth but not this time, the truth that incident must be revealed to everyone. Never will I bit the dust until I finish this writing.

        One day ten years ago, my mother gave birth to a boy. By what miracles or mystics, it seemed like he brought prosperities to our farm the day he borned. The earnings of my dad rose up as if it has never happened before. We earned twice the money as all the other farmers in that area gained. I and my sister knew this miracle came from nowhere but
our hard working in the farm, from our hands and tolerances. But my father claimed it came from his beloved youngest son, Eric.

    It became worse days by days. I and my sister are truly, invisible to my father\'s eyes. His grayish blue eyes always pointed to Eric and his lips always spoke something like \'Eric comes to daddy\' ,\' Eric gets a bath,\' and \'Eric I got new toys.\' But for us there are only words like \'you two clean all the ranches\', \'Reymond collects all the eggs now otherwise you will be sleeping with the pigs instead\' and \'Sarah, get a field ploughed now or no meals for you.\'

    It was just a little disturbance in the beginning but it became more and more annoying later on. I and Sarah knew that our dad wouldn\'t get Eric to work. I started peeling the potatoes at the age of five and Sarah began collecting carrots when she was six. But Eric was nine and he still playing with the train set my father gave.

    Sarah couldn\'t stand it no longer since her dad didn\'t come to her wedding because Eric needed a shower. She was so embarrassed when the priest invited her up the stairs, alone. Even though the wedding passed with the joys of the couples and the guesses, she never returned home from that time until now.

    It came to this now, that horrible night I have written in the first paragraph. I joined the dining room at the evening and began eating the baked pie hungrily. Because Sarah left, more works are being done by the sixteen year old boy. As I was eating, my dad spoke to Eric all the time like yesterday and the day before that, and the day before. But this time it differed from last time, any time. It seemed those words gave me powers, evil powers to revenge. I felt a devil ran through my blood. \'Kill Eric\', it said, \'kill him or you will never be admired by your father.\'

    Though I listened to that devil, I still calmed and stay in my seat. The meal passed peacefully but before I get upstairs to shower my stinky body, my father interrupted, \"Reymond, get down now, the first one to be showered is Eric, not for a lazybones like you\".

    I was depressed now. I didn\'t know when or why I react to my father voice. The words just came out from my mind like it was there all the times, \"your farm became this prosperous because of nothing but my hands and Sarah\';s, you should be thankful to our dedications, our sacrifices for years though the works but you don\'t. You always care for Eric, the one who do nothing but playing with his uncountable toys. You should call him the lazybones, shouldn\'t you? Sarah left us because Eric. I have to do twice the jobs because Eric. Why don\'t you give him some works, why dad?\"

    \"Because he is the miracle of our family you fool\"

    \"That\'s it? Because he is the miracle so he can do what he wants, doesn\'t he?\"

    \"Yes indeed, get down from the stairs now or you will be locked in the barn.\"

    \"No way, I’ll flee like Sarah and shall never return to this farm again\"

    \"Fine, get all the clothes in your drawers and get out from my house now!\"

    I\'m stunned; shocked with the option he gave to me. That was all right, I would get out. Nobody cares me anyway; they would forget me in a night. I still remembered the chance that devil gave it to me \'kill Eric, kill him\'.

    The entire world in my eyes is colored with gray now. The only thing I see is the Winchester rifle at the corner of my room, which has been used to hunt down the wolves in the freezing winter. I couldn\'t think of the details now, I could only hear one thing in my head which repeated itself again and again \'kill Eric, kill him!\'.

    I stormed down, my dad ordered me to drop the gun but my body couldn\'t follow it. I rose the fire arm up and aim it to a ten year old boy who is sitting on the sofa. My dad ran to me and bumped me strongly but no dad no ... the bullet is fired off, don\'t come here no ...

    I stop there, that memory haunts me again. I have been suffering enough for ten years and now I have to stand the misery of killing my own dad. No way I can stand this any more. I don\'t want to see the glorious morning with my dark eyes. I don\'t want to here the voices of the wind with the ears that heard the explosive noise of Winchester rifle. I don\'t want to sense the smell of flowers and grasses in the field with my nose that smell the gun powder from that fire arm. I don\'t want to swim in the large lake with my body that spilled with my father\'s blood. I don\'t want to live with grief but pretending happy all the time no no no.

    Blasted, I can\'t stand this anymore. I go upstairs and start finding the magnum my father left in the drawers which I remember I\'ve seen my dad used it. There I found it, at the second drawer. I pick it up. Then things began slowing down.

    
    I am raising the gun.
    
    The gun is raised next to my head.
    
    I am pulling the trigger now.
    
    I have pulled it.
    
    Bang, the gun cries.
    
    The smell of the gun powder reaches my nose.
    
    The bullet has reached my skull.
    
    I fall down, feel my body shakes horribly.
    
    Then it stops.
    
    There was no light.
    
    I felt cold, I felt pain.
    
    With grief, I felt this again and again and again.