the story, part two
you know the drill.. it's same as the last time.. no stealing.. thank you
There he was, in his cab once again. God, he hated that job. The land of opportunities my ass, he always repeated to his family that has sent him to search for better life, for better job, for family, for money.. what joke his life was. He was sent from one misery into another. So far away from everyone he knew, everyone he loved, his family, his friends. He couldn’t stand it. He even thought about robbing a bank or something because he thought he didn’t deserve this kind of job. Driving people around through the streets of chaos, driving them into their nice homes while he was living in god forsaken hell hole of an apartment in a neighborhood of crime and gangs. Not a job he ever wanted to have. First few months when he came to this land of the free he had such a great dreams about doing something of his life, but it all vanished like it has never existed. The racist intolerance, so many gangs, ignorance... it all made him feel sick, made him forget about his dreams and to go through the days in this state of constant depression and rage. Anger was what his life had become.
And once again, in the back of his cab was someone who had it all and didn’t deserve it; someone who had life that was spouse to be his. This little princess, on her way to shopping mall to spend his monthly pay in an about one hour time, little daddy’s girl that did nothing in her life and yet haven’t cherished the gift she had, made him so full of anger that even looking at her in the mirror made him wish to turn on the other side of the road and let some big truck or bus hit his cab. He would sacrifice his life just to make her suffer.
She talked on the phone with her friend, making plans for the party. Since he got here he hasn’t had time to go out, to see the life in America. All he ever did was work, work, work; he didn’t know about life outside his cab. And there she was, smiling while her make-up made her look 5 years older than her teenage years, laughing with her friend, looking at him with disrespect while she was paying him. Bitter man is what he was. Bitter man so obsessed with his life, thinking that everyone who had better life than he had was guilty for the crime of injustice against him, and that everyone should suffer for making him lose his dreams.
The anger that was building up in him made him sick and crazy. He wanted revenge. He dreamed about revenge. Every day he woke up with only one thought in his mind. Everyone has to pay, everyone has to suffer, and everyone has to die. Once he had his agenda, he started feeling alive again. His anger was feeding him with his will to make things right in his eyes. He couldn’t sleep normal. Dreams of walking into a big shopping mall with machine-gun and killing everyone he would see there made him happy. Bodies struggling for life, shaking on the floor in their own blood, cries of wounded children, tears of their mothers… it all made him go through the days without feeling worthless. He had his agenda and he would do anything to make it true.
It took him some time but in the end he found a way to learn about making a bomb. Thank God for the freedom of internet. It took him quite some time to get thing ready, to make all the preparations, to create the bomb and to plan where to attack, but it was all worth it. He was ready. The world will see what injustice has been laid upon him. The explosives were in the trunk of his cab. He had the switch that he would use to detonate it. All he needed now is to get to the right place, at some square full of people and to detonate it. The thought of pressing that button made him scream out of the satisfaction.
He looked after the girl that got out of his cab and smiled. Kids like her will finally learn to cherish their lives and their wealth. He smiled when he took off to another destination where he had to pick someone up. He parked his car right on the entrance of this big business building that was in the center of the town. Once again he took the detonator to feel it and to look at the red button on it. It filled him with ecstasy. He pushed it away and looked at the man that was coming towards the cab.
And out of nothing came this big table right on his cab, fell through the window and right on his chest. He didn’t die instantly. His hand searched for the detonator but he couldn’t find it. The pain was unbelievable. His last thought was that he failed. Once again the world had proven what in-justice was done to him. Once again he was the victim and the world was the judge, the jury and the execution in one.
Marin Zrile, 30.08.2004.
There he was, in his cab once again. God, he hated that job. The land of opportunities my ass, he always repeated to his family that has sent him to search for better life, for better job, for family, for money.. what joke his life was. He was sent from one misery into another. So far away from everyone he knew, everyone he loved, his family, his friends. He couldn’t stand it. He even thought about robbing a bank or something because he thought he didn’t deserve this kind of job. Driving people around through the streets of chaos, driving them into their nice homes while he was living in god forsaken hell hole of an apartment in a neighborhood of crime and gangs. Not a job he ever wanted to have. First few months when he came to this land of the free he had such a great dreams about doing something of his life, but it all vanished like it has never existed. The racist intolerance, so many gangs, ignorance... it all made him feel sick, made him forget about his dreams and to go through the days in this state of constant depression and rage. Anger was what his life had become.
And once again, in the back of his cab was someone who had it all and didn’t deserve it; someone who had life that was spouse to be his. This little princess, on her way to shopping mall to spend his monthly pay in an about one hour time, little daddy’s girl that did nothing in her life and yet haven’t cherished the gift she had, made him so full of anger that even looking at her in the mirror made him wish to turn on the other side of the road and let some big truck or bus hit his cab. He would sacrifice his life just to make her suffer.
She talked on the phone with her friend, making plans for the party. Since he got here he hasn’t had time to go out, to see the life in America. All he ever did was work, work, work; he didn’t know about life outside his cab. And there she was, smiling while her make-up made her look 5 years older than her teenage years, laughing with her friend, looking at him with disrespect while she was paying him. Bitter man is what he was. Bitter man so obsessed with his life, thinking that everyone who had better life than he had was guilty for the crime of injustice against him, and that everyone should suffer for making him lose his dreams.
The anger that was building up in him made him sick and crazy. He wanted revenge. He dreamed about revenge. Every day he woke up with only one thought in his mind. Everyone has to pay, everyone has to suffer, and everyone has to die. Once he had his agenda, he started feeling alive again. His anger was feeding him with his will to make things right in his eyes. He couldn’t sleep normal. Dreams of walking into a big shopping mall with machine-gun and killing everyone he would see there made him happy. Bodies struggling for life, shaking on the floor in their own blood, cries of wounded children, tears of their mothers… it all made him go through the days without feeling worthless. He had his agenda and he would do anything to make it true.
It took him some time but in the end he found a way to learn about making a bomb. Thank God for the freedom of internet. It took him quite some time to get thing ready, to make all the preparations, to create the bomb and to plan where to attack, but it was all worth it. He was ready. The world will see what injustice has been laid upon him. The explosives were in the trunk of his cab. He had the switch that he would use to detonate it. All he needed now is to get to the right place, at some square full of people and to detonate it. The thought of pressing that button made him scream out of the satisfaction.
He looked after the girl that got out of his cab and smiled. Kids like her will finally learn to cherish their lives and their wealth. He smiled when he took off to another destination where he had to pick someone up. He parked his car right on the entrance of this big business building that was in the center of the town. Once again he took the detonator to feel it and to look at the red button on it. It filled him with ecstasy. He pushed it away and looked at the man that was coming towards the cab.
And out of nothing came this big table right on his cab, fell through the window and right on his chest. He didn’t die instantly. His hand searched for the detonator but he couldn’t find it. The pain was unbelievable. His last thought was that he failed. Once again the world had proven what in-justice was done to him. Once again he was the victim and the world was the judge, the jury and the execution in one.
Marin Zrile, 30.08.2004.