Day 231 - Final thoughts staring at the sun

 Final thoughts staring at the sun

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

The sky was grey and dull. A million shapes and variations of grey. Some said a storm was coming. Robert thought the storm was already here. He stared off into the sky, looking for nothing, just wanting a moment that was free from pain. There was a dull glow in the middle of a cloud. On another day that would have been the sun.

“Christ…” Robert said out loud. Why me? he thought to himself. “Christ, what have I done for you? What would you have me do?”

There was no response. That that he expected one. God had been painfully quiet for as long as Robert could remember.

“What would you have me do?”

Nothing, thought Robert. God wanted nothing from him. God needed nothing from him. God couldn’t even be bothered to answer. That’s how much God hates me, he thought. Maybe it was true. Maybe after a life of blood and sin he deserved no different. It would be selfish to beg forgiveness now that he needed something.  

The hatchet slipped as his grip loosened. The butt rested against his thumb. Why it didn’t fall from his grasp was anyone’s guess. Robert had lost his strength. Fallen to his knees, his arms were heavy and his muscles felt like mush. His fingers grew numb and his bones ached with pain. The thought of moving seemed like madness.  

“What can I do? What… tell me. Tell me. Please. I don’t want…”

Blood dripped from the hatchet edge and fell to the ground. Robert’s hands and arms were covered with dirt. His knees dug into the ground, rocks poking their way in.

The field of battle was a field of blood. Thrice they had come, and thrice they were driven away. The fools wanted to die, thought Robert. When they were thrown back in the morning that should have been enough. They all knew it. They must have. But they came again and again. Ready to die. Ready, as long as they took someone else with them. It was no way to win, but it was a way to kill.

Robert limped away from the field towards the river. He had cracked a boy’s skull. He was fairly certain the boy lived long enough to suffer. He had that stupid look on his face like he was surprised a blade could break through his head. Blood streamed down his face. Then something hit Robert’s side. It was a dull pain, without blood. Likely a hammer of some sort. Something was broken though. He could feel that.

He stumbled and dropped to his knees and looked at the sky. The river might as well have been a thousand miles away. All he wanted was a drink.

“What good is winning… if… if…” Robert trailed off. His eyes were heavy. He wasn’t finishing thoughts. His chin wanted to slip down against his chest. He could drift off. It would be easy. Would he wake though?

“What do you want from me? I’m here. I’m here,” he sobbed. “Tell me…”

The grey opened and the rain came down.