In response to Shamera's weekly challenge...
Took me forever, but I finally convinced myself to write something.
Judgement Day
by Saturnine
approx 1,001 words...and yes, it has an end!
The world is coming to an end. Not this instant, of course, but I can sense that the apocalypse is imminent. The Creator wouldn’t allow this vermin of humanity to continue feeding off of the innocence and vulnerability of the weak much longer. I woke up in the morning feeling the seething heat from my window. It must be at least a hundred degrees outside with absolutely no humidity in the air. My lips were beyond parched. The skin broke and bled. There was a thunderstorm without rain. A flashing white bolt of lightning struck the tree in front of my house and a searing fire scorched it to a charred skeleton within seconds. It didn’t take its time to burn.
Never ever could I dream Judgment Day to be anything like this. Soaked with sweat, I was delirious. I saw a panicked falcon circling around the ashy remains of the tree. It was lost, calling out for its master and the master, closer than it would ever know, was calling out for the deaf bird.
You must get out of bed or you will be late! I told myself. Time has no meaning in my universe. The hours roll on by as they were seconds, but in the real world, time meant everything. Deadlines held precedent over mankind. You could live, knowing that some atrocity ripped the eight and a half month old baby out of a pregnant mother’s womb, and not live in a world where time meant nothing.
The alarm screamed. My first instinct was to turn it off and go back to sleep, but not this time. I grabbed some random articles of clothing from the closet and shoved food in my mouth. Did it matter, my vagrant appearance and behavior? I should have shaved or at least combed my hair.
I had parked my car at the curb, where the sun’s rays shone directly. The steering wheel burned my hand. Partly my fault for being so stubborn as to leave my hand there until smoke arose from underneath. The skin was peeling off the palms. Forgive me, it is in my nature to exaggerate the severity of my situation. There was no smoke, no peeling skin, just an extremely hot steering wheel. I took a couple of deep breaths and closed my eyes. No more delusions, I promised myself. You are not ill. Your mind is completely intact. Why was I kidding myself? I was completely losing myself to the abyss. Emotional was an understatement. I was… I was… mad…
I heard voices. They were perfectly legitimate. The radio does produce voices. Blah. Blah. Blah… reports indicate that record-high temperatures would soar over the next couple of days… turn the knob…. a song: pools of delusion deluge me.... no, no I cannot listen to this… according to Nietzsche, God is dead. We must create our own morality and destroy slavish religions like Christianity…. I am the sheep. Baa-baa- black sheep have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full… static wonderful static... UFOs must be communicating to me…
At last, I was at the court house. It was crowded in a sweltering room. You would think air conditioning would be available. My forehead dripped with sweat. I was a disgusting pig. I took the seat beside my lawyer.
“You are late!” she hissed. “How can you be late to something as important as this? And you lose all credibility with your appearance!”
“Do I?” I mumbled.
“Are you taking this seriously at all?”
I was not listening to the judge or the witnesses at the stand. All I cared about was to look the murderer in the face. That’s right, you cannot escape the hand of fate. He would be sitting across from where I am. I just had to look left. Sweat all over my body. I was drenched in it.
What did I do to deserve this? Karma was evil. I lie on occasions and I have gotten in fights with my brother and sister, but doesn’t everybody? The sum of my dirty deeds just did not add up to the murder of my wife in such an appalling fashion. She was shrieking as I drove the car home. By the time I reached the living room, I saw a mess of blood and tissue and skin and gore on the once spotless pale carpet. The mouth of the corpse was open so that I could count the individual silver fillings on the teeth. Such ugliness does not do justice to the memory of the deceased. Once upon a time, she was a lively spirit, smiling and laughing and talking. Murder does not begin to describe the crime. She was violated, though the definition does not match the implications of the word.
I dared to turn toward the murderer. I examined him and found myself focusing on his thick brown mustache and the stark whiteness of his suit. Oh, he was definitely smug.
“What are you staring at?” the lawyer asked, her luscious lips turned upside down.
I expressed my loathing for Mr. Mustache.
“That is the defense’s lawyer,” she said. “Have you been living in a bubble? The murderer is that woman sitting next to the lawyer.”
Ah, so it was a she, not he. I looked again. What?! My lawyer must be playing a cruel joke. The murderer was just a girl around eighteen or nineteen. She wore pigtails and looked ill at ease in the court room. I asked my lawyer again and she confirmed the identity of the suspect.
I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdness. I couldn’t hold that smile. I just had to laugh. I let out a hearty laugh and soon I discovered that I couldn’t stop. I laughed louder until I was sure the whole courtroom could hear me. I couldn’t hear what anybody was saying, if anybody was trying to talk some sense into me. Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.
Edit: sorry didn't insert a rating. I think it's PG-13/R for disturbing images?