It was yet another ordinary day at work. I found myself listening to Nickelback’s ‘Rockstar,’ dreaming about living in hilltop houses and owning credit cards with no limits. Earlier this day, however, it was rather strange how I woke up.
I woke up panting, drenched in sweat. I looked around to see if there was someone to get me a glass of water. I struggled to fight back the feeling but there’s only so much I can do. Fear gripped me harder every minute and I felt the need to run. Away. Somewhere. Anywhere…
I heard a familiar voice just a few hours earlier. “Let me go. I have nothing to give you. Please. I have a family that depends on me, leave me alone.” Her head hung low. She begged for her life but perhaps she wasn’t convincing enough.
Another voice cried “Please don’t show this on television. My people might see this. My son is sensitive to blood, he would faint. Please don’t let him know I’m in pain. He’s too young. It’s in your hands to keep him out of this. I beg of you” the lady said. She was on a stretcher surrounded by people trying to help, and some trying to get her to talk about the incident.
The camera turned to a middle-aged man inside an ambulance. He had something more interesting to say. “I’m a regular walker and I was here taking my usual walks when suddenly, I heard them. There were a series of them, loud and clear. Between all the smoke and wreck, I saw people running in all directions. I rushed towards the exit but I guess by then it was too late.” He looked down at his leg.
The image was clear in my mind. The man looked fine, except he wore tattered clothes and probably couldn’t walk. Blood trickling down his leg, there was no way he could get himself back on feet anyway. He was, however, alive. He had a heart that still beat. For his family, as he’d perhaps like to think.
There was chaos. People had a million things to say, to the police, to the media, to each other. I heard them all but nothing made sense to me. Maybe they were people in pain but they weren’t people I knew. I care, but perhaps a lot less that I would otherwise. All I wanted to know was why I was bleeding to death.
Someone shook me so hard I could’ve died. “Get up, Archie! We’re getting late for work. The city is back to normal and they’ve assured us they’re taking measures to keep things under control. This is the last time, they’ve promised. They’ve tightened security and all too.”
“What happened and how did it happen? Who were they? Why did they do all that? What do they want? Complete intelligence failure, wasn’t it? Is there someone I can talk to? Is there someone who can answer? Is there someone? Can’t they do something about it? Can’t we do something about it? Let's call for war! Atleast we'll know what to expect?” I heard myself ask her, panic-stricken.
“This is why you should stop staying up late nights watching news channels. We’re safe, man! We were home when all this happened. We got back home soon as our folks informed us about the blasts, remember? We are just fine. We’re alive and we need to earn a living to stay alive, you know. Now can we get to work?,” she said with a look that meant “Cut the crap! We’re getting late for god’s sake!”
I don’t trust her, I don’t trust them, I don’t trust anyone. It hurts when I swallow. It’s the kind of pain that suffocates me. The sort that aches at places I never knew existed within me. Some sort of wound I’ve never experienced before. The sort I’m being forced to live with. The sort I cannot word. I can’t make this pain go away. I can’t get used to this.
I woke up panting, drenched in sweat. I looked around to see if there was someone to get me a glass of water. I struggled to fight back the feeling but there’s only so much I can do. Fear gripped me harder every minute and I felt the need to run. Away. Somewhere. Anywhere…
