Thrust Into His Arms

I had clearly told him to push it back and give me some time.

I am currently supposed to be somewhere in the middle east right now. Fighting tooth and nail to come out alive of the most barbaric tortures that my uncle deems very vital in order for me to become a strong, capable leader after him.

It is almost seven years now since I started from when I was twelve, right after my initiation ceremony that was a a major introduction to the ways of the underworld. Before that I was training like crazy in all kinds of combat.

My first reality check as a kid born into this kind of life was when I fought and accidentally killed one of my fighting instructors at age eleven. I had not meant to do it.

I was so shaken up by it that I could not sleep alone after it happened. The man’s death caused an internal war as he was an important figure in the gang so much that his associates even demanded my life in return. Then they later decided to settle for an insane amount of money to which my uncle agreed to.

He invited them over to the headquarter base for dinner one evening. Making sure that each and everyone of them were in attendance. They had come expecting to leave with the cash only to ambushed. I was made to kill all of them. One by one.

I hesitated, shaking as I held the gun. "They are people who want you dead. If you let them live they would come after you. Do not pull the trigger if you are okay with that." Uncle had said to me. I thought about it and he was right. I pulled the trigger, not stopping until they were all dead and their blood made a river in the hall.

Uncle had applauded me. I later realized that it was never a dinner meeting to begin with.

It was a bloodbath that everyone but me was aware of.

It was a test for me.

That was my first lesson of kill or be killed. He or anyone else could have done the killings, but he wanted me to do it.

I was fully initiated into the gang the day after my twelfth birthday. Shortly after came the real training.

Two bone-breaking bloody weeks of torture.

I used to be very nervous and afraid whenever the time draws near and fully arrives.

It later changed into me being expectant thinking about whether I would kill or not.

Now it is not knowing how to feel about it.

It is now practically tradition to me. This is my life. It might seem messed up to others but to me it is legacy. I can’t imagine me living a different one.

A lot of times in the past, I have tried to imagine what my life would have been like if I was born and raised in a normal setting, like having both parents, and they would have good legal jobs. I would have siblings. We’d sit around a table and have meals together and sleep under one roof, and guns would not be part of our properties.

That would be nice all right but if I were given a choice I still would’ve chosen this life. I will always chose strong over weak. To kill instead of being killed. My father is a cautionary tale to that.

He chose weakness and it cost him his life. Good and evil coexist but evil has more effects and power. The balance constantly tips in its favor. That is why innocent people

suffer without reason. Most people are living their lives while pretending that it does not exist. They are holding onto the pipedream that the world would one day become a better place.

But there is evil and the best choice is becoming one with it and wielding it. Not running and ignoring it. I have long accepted and come to terms with that. I am wired in messy-ass knots. Made out of twisted metal cords instead of veins. An empty black box instead of a heart.

Cursed to never be loving.

I have never been attached to anything or anyone before now. And she is like a self-destruction button that I had pushed over and over again.

"Be over there by tomorrow." It sounded like an instruction but it is an order. Clip and precise.

"I still need more time." I say.

"What the hell are you up to?"

"A couple more days. I will be there once I’ve settled it. Bye." I hang up, not giving him a chance to voice out more questions. He is calling back. It ends and he calls again. I don’t turn it off because the buzzing ringtone sound is somehow helping to make the space and my mind a little less bleak.

I leave there, going to the window to stare out into the dark sky.

When is the damn sun going to rise?

Outside, the moonlight and the stars are gone, hidden behind the clouds, casting an oppressive gloom in the atmosphere. And then later, boom— A low roll of thunder rumbles across the sky, muffled as if someone had wrapped it in cloth.

It happened several more times. Flashing across the sky like a firecracker, the sound of the peals heavy and ominous, yet the rain still refused to fall. My fingers tightened around the beer can, crushing it.

After much thought, I have decided that I should do as that guy had said. But then again I would still have to let her know in some way.

A letter!

Yes, a letter. I could write one and slid under the door so she sees it. That is a splendid idea but I’ve got no book and pen with me.

My eyes went to the luggage I had unceremoniously dropped by the edge of the bed after I brought it back from the motel yesterday. There is no point in searching it because I did not bring that. Perhaps the owner would have.

I was surprised to find someone at the front desk. Someone other than the woman who runs it. A young lady who is the exact carbon copy of her. Must be her daughter.

I know it is very late and did not expect to find anyone. I had come on the faint hope that maybe I might find what I’m looking for.

"What can I help you with?" The young lady asked.

"Can I get a pen and paper?"

"Sure. Must be around here somewhere. . . .Ah! There it is. Here you go. Knock yourself out, there must be some clean pages in there." She says giving me a book and pen.

"Thanks a lot."

She smiles, "You are welcome."

Reaching my room, I sit crossed-legged on the bed, opening the book to start writing.

I hold the pen still on the paper realizing that I do not have any flair for writing. The ink is starting to blot the spot.

I put the pen aside to get my thoughts together.

I have never done this before. What do I start with?