a short story 0 replies

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Techno Viking

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10th November 2006

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#1 13 years ago

I wrote this a while back, basically some crap that came off the top of my head, just interested in some opinions: -------------------------------------------------- I feel so cold right now. It's like there's some kind of missing link in me. Have you ever had the feeling when you know you have to do something, but you don't know if it's the right thing? My mentor said it was right, he said it was AllahÕs will. I guess that makes it ok doesn't it? I'm not so sure anymore. Not enough time to think. I've got to go before five. That's only twenty minutes from now. What should I do? You know what, fuck it. What have I got to lose anyway? I load my gun and tuck it into my pants. Only a few minutes left now. My van parked outside is packed with two hundred pounds of explosives. I never did understand how bombs worked. I guess not much point in knowing that anymore. I look up at the clock and see that it's five, so I walk up and get in the van. I turn the key and start up the engine. It doesn't sound too healthy but that doesn't really matter. My heart is pounding now; I'm having trouble breathing properly. I drive out of the driveway and onto the main road. The traffic isn't bad, not that I'm paying attention to it anyway. Everything is going as planned, but I can't get rid of the foreboding feeling in my head. It's like some malevolent force has taken over and the good part of me is trying to tell me something important. A car swerves in front of me, clipping my bumper. I don't really care, so I don't slow down to deal with him. Everything is beginning to blur together, the finite pieces of me and those of my imagination are no longer distinguishable from one another. Is this a dream? What is a dream? Have I not been dreaming my whole life and experiencing reality in my subconscious? What's the difference? My thoughts slowly become clearer for a second and then I realize what I have set out to do. How can I have the power to take away lives, I am no messiah. Allah's will maybe, but why me? What have I done to deserve this? I am now parked a block away from the American Embassy. There are at least two hundred people crowded around its entrance. Armed security guards scope the area, their large automatic rifles causing pedestrians to walk oh so carefully. If I go through with this all those people are going to die. I swat my hand through the air at the thought as though it were a pesky bug buzzing above me. My hand is groping my gun, trying to extract any semblance of comfort from its sheen metal surface. An armed security guard walks past my car. I nod at him. He nods back then continues his scoping of the area. Warm tears start trickling down my face. I pop the car into gear and gun the engine, the tires squealing as if in protest to my decision. The security guard is now pointing his gun at me. I shoot him in the head. I don't even check to see if I killed him. I'm about to hit the crowd. Suddenly at the last moment, I swerve the car and send it shooting off the nearby bridge into the grimy water. I can barely hear shouts and screams from around me. My car is sinking fast now; I can't see anything out of the windshield. I'm smiling. I know I made the right choice. Allah forgive me, but I cannot do what you ask of me. My mind is racing now, I'm seeing my family, my friends and all the things I remember as a child. Somehow I don't feel sad, but instead I feel content. That one part of my life that was empty has now been filled in. I have saved the lives of all those people who have not done any wrong to me. I shed one last tear and then turn around and fire a shot at the bomb. I feel my eardrums burst and all I can see is red, a sensation that lasts only a part of a second. I am...