Wednesday 10 March 2010

Alive Or Dead

I was buried alive. Hardly able to breathe and not knowing where i was, i panicked and smashed my head on the roof of my temporary accommodation. I could hear my heart pounding in my head. I'd been taking oxygen for granted, and now it had me by the balls. It laughed at me menacingly from afar, knowing i was helpless. I just had to be conservative, which was very difficult, having woke up in a dark, restricted place with no idea how I'd got there. I wasn't even entirely sure why i was there, in the body shaped container under the ground. Nothing was clear. The structure creaked and moaned under the pressure of the earth. Panic took over and i started kicking and shouting, screaming, using my final breaths to try for any chance of help. I was distraught, about to die. Finally, i gave up. What's the point in resisting the inevitable. So i froze still and stared into the darkness in front of me with enormous courage. Whatever i was due, i was ready to take head on.

Then i began to think. My breathing relaxed, and my heart rate dropped significantly. A sharp, stabbing pain intruded my head, accompanied by flashing images of absolutely nothing. That continued for what felt like an hour, and then the images started to feel like memories. Clothes on the floor, messed up sheets, used condoms on a bedside table. A beautiful, beautiful woman straddling me, going for gold. Then a gunshot, and blood. A lot of blood. My wife screaming at me in the hotel room, hitting me, threatening me with a gun. She must be why i was in a container somewhere. Why didn't i run out of air? I'd been conscious for at least five minutes, and yet the air supply was still adequate to keep me going. I remembered my wife grabbing me by the testicles and dragging me naked into the rain. It was raining so heavily. My testicles hurt, a lot. I thought she was going to shoot them off. Then i panicked and grabbed where my testicles should have been. Still there, fuck, what a relief. Laying in my early grave, i couldn't help feeling that the punishment didn't fit the crime.

After all, my wife was guilty of the same sin a year predating my own betrayal. We'd gone out one night for her friends birthday. Just some club in town and a few drinks. She'd met him after we had a brutal fight in the street, about why it had taken me so long to marry her, of all things. Why did it matter when ultimately the knot had been tied. It was irrelevant why we hadn't been married earlier. So I stomped off in a rage and grabbed a taxi home. Unfortunately, this one opportunity was enough for her to slip off with him. She gave in to his charms at a bus stop, and fucked him that night. Apparently he was bigger than me. She knew how to make a man feel good. Now there I was in the ground about to die, and all I could think about was my inadequate penis. I wonder how much bigger he was. If he was so good why didn't she just leave me for him, and spare me that painful, inevitable, unavoidable situation.

How could i get out of there? There must have been a way. I remembered her driving in the rain, not telling me where we were going. She became very quiet and subdued. It scared me to see her holding in her anger and pain. Then she turned to me, laughed, and smashed the side of my head with the same weapon that murdered my lover. That must be how she got me there. I didn't feel a thing. I wonder if she planned all of it, or if she followed us, or if she finally just snapped. At least i had my revenge. I got to give her the same pain she'd given me. It was the least i could do. But what good is revenge if you don't live long enough to enjoy the blossoming beauty of it? No good. Now I'm sitting in a park, on a bench, with my legs outstretched and my arms spread across the length of the backrest. The sun is caressing my face, warming my heart, and assuring me everything will be alright. My head still hurts, but it's bearable now that i have my fresh air. I'll never take it for granted again. I'm watching some kids play basketball. Another boy is walking his dog. It's amazing how beautiful everything looks. Every blade of grass is vibrant and energetic. Every tree is looking to the sky and stretching to reach its neighbour. I don't know how i got here. I don't even know if I'm alive or dead.

Alive Or Dead © 2010, Daniel Jama.

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