THE DEATH OF HOPE(for meatgrinderman)

(this is one of my older works.......quite old actually!)




The loud blasting sound was followed by a sudden silence. Everything grew quiet...too quiet. The rubble and debris from the explosion enshrouded everything. Then from out of nowhere came the sound of gunshots, putting those who had escaped the horror to eternal sleep.

He managed to wriggle out from under the table which weighed down on him with the debris spilled on top. It took all the strength in his frail body, but he managed, pushing away the dirt with his tiny hands.

He stood there looking at the destruction that surrounded him with its glacial hands. This was his home; at least it used to be. Barely nine, yet he could comprehend what the menacing atmosphere around him was all about. There was a strange silence, dark, cold, with the smell of death everywhere.

The walls that were once flawlessly white were now crumbling with blood splattered over them, a tribute to the beast dwelling under the cover of humanity. He could see the bodies lying on the road, slaughtered mercilessly in the name of prejudice without rectitude which man finds justified.

The truth of his loss dawned upon him. He stood there, with tears streaming down and freezing on his face with cold. He could see no recourse, no hope, no life. And for the first time his innocent mind perceived the world with all its disease-ridden glory.

Darkness crept in, stealthily enveloping everything under its shadows. Even then, the sound of distant firing continued to overwhelm him while a new fear evolved within. He simply could not shake himself free from the manacles of horror that bound him. He knew it wouldn’t be long till a screaming bullet would appear from the oblivion and silence him forever.