Need for justice

The orange tree was in full blossom and the sun began to rise on the horizon. As the soft amber glow spilled its paintbox of colours over the rolling green countryside, I stood there, silently weeping.

The beautiful landscape blurred as my eyes burned. Leaning against the slender tree trunk, I merely choked up, shaking uncontrollably, thanking the heavens that nobody was around to see my breakdown. I tried so hard to be strong... but weakness was natural, I reminded myself. A natural part of the process, they had said. Yes, that was it.

My shabby trainers were soaked through from this morning’s dew around my feet. The grass was still green, no matter how much I sobbed. The sun would still rise, no matter how much I sobbed. And the orange blossom would still bloom and grow, no matter how much I sobbed.

I attempted in vain to take control of my breathing, but each time I gained a little bit of peace from my relentless howls her gorgeous face drifted into my aching mind’s eye, and I’d collapse again. I screamed to the fluffy pink cloud ridden sky. I demanded justice.

But justice would mean admitting, and justice, ultimate justice, would mean the loss of my life.

I remembered her dark eyes, sharp, inquisitive as ever, and yet full of betrayal. I could still feel the somewhat ironic softness of the pillow under my calloused hands, as I pressed it against her perfectly defined features. She struggled, but she was losing. It had started as an innocent pillow fight, and had escalated immensely; I suffocated her to death.

It wasn’t me that had done it- it was the beast in my chest, prowling murderously about my gut, rising up my throat and strangling me until I carried out its orders. It was unmanageable.

I had hated her and I had loved her. Now, as I trembled watching the sun ascend, I couldn’t remember the pure fiery hatred that used to boil up inside me. I said and did horrible things to such a lovely person, and now I poured out my remorse and regret. I confessed my guilt to the birds that tweeted melodies relentlessly.

But they were after me. They wanted me to complete the transformation, from a person to a psychopath. I resisted but it was no use. No use...

Justice was needed.

That old song about the wonders of the world danced into my head: I see fields of green, and clouds of white. Blah blah blah. But I never appreciated its relevance until this moment.

I crumpled to the ground, crushed, succumbed by guilt and anguish, and faded into nothing among the vermillion pansies.

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

Comments 0