From dawn till the mundane dusk

{CHAPTER 1}

FROM DAWN TILL THE mundane DUSK

 

“I have nothing left to give

I have found the perfect end

You were made to make it hurt

Disappear into the dirt”

 

M

emories have the weirdest mood ever, like a Persian princess or some over-spoiled wealthy teenager in the ecstasy of her prime; they manipulate us, torment us, then shift us far into worlds beyond our imagination and understanding, and unto the other sides of humanity away to the frayed edges of sanity.

Nothing good or fruitful usually comes out of swimming willy-nilly and aimlessly throughout your deserted memories and past, even the joyful and most colourful ones, but we all do it, willingly or whenever we lose our consciousness in the daily life routine, or when some slash event or incident thrash our minds into a coma in the dark realm of unconsciousness, and shuffling, sometimes, in the demonic labyrinth of superego. That’s when the temper of our glum lady sorcerizes its black arts, unleashing creeping winds from the underworlds whispering thoughts and remorse like vipers, then a slithering chill is resurrected from some old cemetery overmasters and snatches you from your present and sense and tosses you amid darkness… A very familiar one.

And there’s really no salutary remedy for memories reflux and backfire, I heard over and over that it can be overcame by oblivion sooner or later, but I just don’t see that. Also lots of people try to substitute their black memories in hope that the new will release them, but that is a myth humans are clinging to by false hope. Still though, Ignorance, may be a good pill to swallow bitterly when you can’t take it anymore just before collapse point, but to what extent? Till when will ignorance stay functional and your body will resist the chill, and your ears will neglect the mesmerizing eulogy of the wind.

 

My name was...

Actually, I don't think it matters now, I don't believe names mean anything anymore, what’s the use of having a name if there’s no one left to call it out? And it’s the most peevish and outrageous word which bedevils your heart, when your “name” is nothing but guilt and thin air

 

I used to live in a small, colourful village, in the north of México; surrounding us from every direction were other villages which went along the same rural life style, tho' my village in particular was kind of isolated from the other villages and the outer world, yet our lives were calm and spellbinding. Moreover; all of its residents were like family to me, I know that this might sound corny, but it is a fact, we were one big, happy family.

 

The hamlet... Ah!

There's too much to tell about it... The smell of the green grass and the tomatoes which grew around the main yard, the sounds of little birds singing freely on the trees, along with the charming nature which danced happily with our souls planting contentment, welfare and love deep in our hearts... And... And... And… As I set brooding here at my exile, I am getting flashes of every minor detail of my childhood, it wasn’t that special, actually, it wasn’t special at all, but it was mine, and that’s enough, it was happy, completely innocent, and worth the time to remember, at least it has the power to forge a smile over my face which almost forgot happiness. They really were marvelous moments, there's just too much to mention, but you can't find the words...

Getting back to original story that is nothing unlike any tale you’d ever read about or any story you lived or heard, thus every nice story must have its villain, and my story's villain, so I thought, was a rich, mighty, feudal man known as Pesar laden.  He came to own the village aside with other villages in the area.

 

It all started in an arid year, therefore; our hamlet, as well as several neighbor hamlets suffered from a serious drought. People starved and started raiding each other for water and food; it's horrifying what hanger could do to you! Briefly; we were facing a major catastrophe. When suddenly, Mr. Pesar �" whom I mentioned before �" showed up as a blessed rescuer sent to as by dear heaven offering that he would gladly give us the food and water we needed; and we could repay him later, so he said.

As a matter of fact, I believe he and his men playacted the part professionally, they came in big jeeps, and then unloaded their contents; we offered to help them, but they refused kindly, they were very nice and gentle, but Satan was nice too, when he persuaded our father to eat from the forbidden tree, wasn't he?

 

And rapidly, Mr. Pesar became the most welcomed individual in the area. He was offered a large piece of land to build his home at or to use it as whatever he saw suitable, and a big palace he built there! It was the most grandiose edifice our humble eyes ever lied upon! Huh, how naive!

Afterwards, the situation became even worse; we had another arid year, and another, and another. In every single one; the villagers turned to Mr. Pesar for avail which he provided fain. Notwithstanding, year after year; the debt grew larger and larger, till finally the winsome Mr. Antonio stopped being so generous and asked for his deserved money, but naturally; we couldn't provide it, none of the villages around us could. That when disaster stroke, he insisted that we repay him immediately. Otherwise; he'll take over the villages as a recompense for his money. Everybody was extremely shocked and panicked after hearing this and started shouting…

"What are we supposed to do now?!?

"Where are we going to live???"

 

"Don't worry dear villagers, you'll stay here, and work in your lands until your dept is paid, this is the best and fairest solution, don't you think??" he replied

To be honest; I think we deserved this somehow… but not what happened next.

Therefore, we were forced to work for him.  Most of us worked in agriculture as before, the rest worked as servants and maids in his palace; I don't have to tell you that our lives weren't exactly so luxuries, even before he came, but as you'll see; his appearance neither help it ameliorate nor made it easier. That day is curved on my stone-cold memory with blood, sweat and tears, it was the fine barrier that ended my innocent childhood and turned my days into a bleak and gloomy portrait of melting questions, not only me, but every single human I ever knew.

 

We lived in humble huts made of wood and mud, we barely knew meat, our meals consisted of vegetables, some kinds of fruit and once in a while we ate fish, that of course was before his blessed appearing which only made things quite worse. To make this long story short; we lived under stark and unbearable circumstances, everyone who could handle an ax had to work and of course no money was paid for us, because we already owned him a fortune, he only gave us enough food for us to survive, and frankly, the vegetables and fruits we had to eat were every year's worst picks and I'm pretty sure even rats would refuse to eat it.   Obviously, we were treated like slaves. His nice and gentle men showed their real form as savage, barbarian wardens. Hence every reason to smile and hope was raped to death.

I remember the first time I had to work for him; it was just when I turned 12, my father took me to his palace to work as a servant with my uncle �" who was the chef, I still remember the look on my father's face when he sat me off in the palace's kitchen like he was cutting a piece of his heart for the flames to gorge.

That look in his eyes twisted the pain inside my heart like a frantic volcano, and what melted my poor heart even more; was what he said when he turned his stabbed face and walked away:

"I'm sorry my son, I would rather die than leaving you here, but there's nothing I can do… forgive me my boy, please forgive me"

He said; as he bestowed me in my uncle's hands.  I screamed for him; hoping that he would turn back, but he kept going on, half alive… Half dead, even when I looked up to my uncle, who was holding me gently; I sensed a coming flood of tears which he barely held back, then he looked down at me with a friendly smile… I was waiting for some kind of consolation, a few warm words to handle my terrified heart softly and comfort him that it's alright… Everything is going to be just fine… But I guess, he couldn't lie at me; he couldn't cover me with a fake blanket which won’t warm me through the coming blizzard, and will soon reveal the painful truth, that the life of joy and innocent fun has reached an end, that running freely and carelessly amongst the green fields is no longer possible; I sensed all of this in his eyes as I returned my head down hopelessly.

"Come on my boy, let's go inside, I want you to meet someone" He said.

I walked with him to the palace's kitchen, but in that moment; a new chapter of my life started and the one I yearn for every second of was thrown to the deepest pit of misery, and sent to rust in peace were all shattered memories and dreams moan and give-up the ghost

 

That palace was gigantic, and I never saw so much whiteness through my entire mundane life. The columns, the floor, and the stairs were made of pure, white stone, not to mention the drawings and pictures which covered the white wide walls. When I first entered that place I was sneaked to the kitchen and placed their the entire day for they were preparing a feast of some sort, then after it, I was presented to the Butler who looked at me like I am a stinky bit of meat and after a bitter wrangle he accepted me, what an honor! And then my rights, duties and obligations was read at me like a prisoner and lastly lead me to my room down the basement where I saw the deluxe front entrance of the palace. Nevertheless, whenever I looked at those columns; I saw people standing over each other covered in blood, sweat and tears, whenever I looked at the floor, I saw an effluent river of red blood, whenever I looked at the paintings, I saw men and women working and plowing in a bleak image of sadness, every time I entered that palace; I felt a big rock on my chest, a heavy weight in top of my soul, it was the blackness of injustice, the load of affliction, the ugliness of turpitude, which nested deeply in that place.

For me; that so called "palace" was nothing but the house of the devil himself, although I had the least share of torture, pressure and pain, because I was nothing but a garbage boy, I saw and felt everything around me clearly, I was able to know how everybody really felt, and sense the sadness invading their feeling like a wicked virus, killing every warm happiness they ever felt, slaying their inner dreams and hopes, flaying every reason they had to smile and live for, and planting fear and horror in place of love and peace.  No matter who hard they tried to cover their pain and misery with the mantle of cold happiness and fake smiles, I could see through it.

All of this enrobed me in a shadow of silence, I had an enraged hurricane of thoughts and desires held profoundly inside of me, like a brutal lion behind bars, waiting for someone to open his cage for him to go wild and free, but back then; I lost hope in waiting for this savior.

 

We remained under this awful situation for approximately 4 long years; we tasted through them every form of excruciation and pain, but we were hanging still by the light that there's only one year left; and we'll break out from this hell bracelet surrounding our necks, back to the joyful world of freedom, yet it seemed destiny was still holding some ordeals for us up his sleeve.

The first issue we faced was when one of Mr. Antonio's men came to the village's main yard and hanged up a signboard on which he wrote a certain amount of yield he required from the village, they hanged a similar signboard in every village, as I was told by one of my friends, because I wasn't allowed to leave the palace at that period.  Anyhow, the amount of harvest he ordered was nearly impossible, I can't remember we ever reached any quantity near what he called for, even during our best and most blessed years, subsequently; the villages' council arranged a meeting and tried to estimate the year's yield, but they found that it’s impossible to reach the wanted amount, so they sent a messenger to Mr. Pesar to inform him about the true nature of the situation, but he said "Either you deliver the declared amount, or I'll extend your work time for another 10 years".

The entire village burned in rage and despair as soon as the news reached their ears, still, just as before, they couldn't do a thing, but no! The passion for freedom and justice couldn't die easily; a nearby village announced in the horizon that this is it!! We won't take more persecution; it's time for this tyranny to come to an end. In that execrable moment; the second calamity stroke, unexpectedly and out of blue, jeeps rolled down towards the village, machine guns beat, people started to scream and run blindly, babies cried,annonced  flames rose to the sky…

 

When suddenly, silence reigned, a black ghost of death covered the lands…

I heard and saw everything, as I peeked through the kitchen's window, an indescribable scene. Everything returned back to the ground where it belongs, in a bloody view of death and cruelty…

I couldn't imagine that any human could do what I witnessed, but I guess it wasn't a human deed; it was the acts of demons, in human forms…

I couldn't imagine that a heart of any creature could bare this much hatred and savagery, yet those weren't any creatures, they were heartless devils.

I congealed… I couldn't move a muscle…

My mind and heart were drowning…

Down in the mad waters of darkness…

When a white hand rushed and grabbed me from the depth, it was my dear uncle. He started talking to me, but I couldn't hear him, I was looking at his lips moving, but I heard nothing,I had moved to a different world now, where silence govern, where peace rules, where the screams of children mingle with their innocent blood.

He carried me gently and ran to my room, placed me on my bed and covered me; I was shaking like a leaf and couldn't control myself, I couldn't snatch my heart back to the real world, as he hid deep inside hoping to seal himself from the horrible present, but giving up was none of my uncle's features, he tried to comfort me as he placed my troubled head on his fond embrace and laid next to me, until my eyes surrendered.

Until this day; the eidolons of those moments is still dwelling me. I was so innocent and fuzzy inside, and such effluents of alien scenes were an overwhelming shock for my naïve mind and imagination, and till this moment my mind is still poisoned and struggling with the venom. However, the only thing I can do is to eschew thinking about them. I woke the following morning late; everybody avoided talking about what happened. Especially; when I was around, but yet, I saw the fear in their eyes; I noticed it in every move they made. Angst and sadness were charging the medium, so I rewrapped myself with the shadow of gloomy silence, and walked away.

Here I saw and really understood why everyone had to take in all that pain and suffering yet never twitch a limp, I never asked or had a clear idea for silence was my way of dealing with things, and I was the only one I pointed questions to, or better phrased, “store” question in, for those vagabond inquiries never saw the light at that time, and never met an answer, and my numerous phrenetic volcanoes of need were never satisfied and always irritated by more questions and more deprivation. That’s the way things were and there was no way to change things sadly, consorting and accepting these facts quickly, regardless of your reflection or opinion, were the best way to survive, to keep roaming, alive or hollowed… it didn’t matter.

 

Another 5 years passed by not any different than their gorgon sisters, that when the final hit pounced. Mr. Pestar’s only son, Romeo, strangely fell in love with a young girl from my village called, Rosetta, it’s not strange that he fell for her, because she was indeed the most beautiful rose in the village, what's strange is that he searched for love in our village, I guess the one who said "love is blind" truly spoke pure wisdom. Although she really hated and despised him, that didn't stop Romeo's sick and filthy desires, he kept bothering and following her around with his twisted and vulgar flatters, until one day she couldn't take anymore, so she told her big brother, Marcos, everything, foolish Marcos burned in rage, he turned into a green-eyed monster and started searching for Romeo, whom he soon found and pounded to death... Yes to death.

You can imagine what was the look on Mr. Pestar’s face when he found his only boy covered in blood and beaten up till his lineaments vanished, he started screaming and threatening to burn this whole area if his son's murderer wasn't found and brought before him, so he said, after this incident and in that specific dark day, I was allowed to return to my beloved village for a couple of days; for the first time since they issued the detention order upon my soul, and locked me away in that demonic cell. I entered the village…

Leaving my legs to the wind…

Running like a wild lion…

With the merry wind tickling my happy face…

Finally heading home…

There she is! Here is my mother! Opening her arms for me…

I wasn't focusing on anything…

Just on her pretty face and arms…

Oh! How much I miss them…!!!

Suddenly, mom's face changed…

What's going on…? What's wrong...?

She looked like if she's staring at a ghost…

Everything started to move slowly in a weird manner…

I started looking around…

Why is everybody running away…?

Wait…! What's happening…?

I looked behind slowly when…

When I saw the ghosts of darkness, the demons of doom… The same demons who attacked the past, poor village, I won't ever forget that sight…

Machines of destruction rolling forward…

Pieces of cold metal shooting death…

People shouting their last scream…

And… And… There he is… The DEVIL…

Standing there laughing, just if this whole massacre is nurturing his veins…

I won't ever forget his leer when he said "Find that boy! Burn them all!! Kill every single creature you face! Don't spare a soul!!"

My heart collapsed at the sight, but I continued to run…

I turned my head back…

When I saw her…

My beautiful flower…

Lying on the ground motionlessly…

I rushed towards her…

Grabbed her into my arms… Shaking and yelling "MOM! Come on! Let's move! Don't you die on me!"

While I was yelling, I heard something approaching…

It kept getting closer…

And closer… And closer…

Until finally; curiosity drove me to look back…

I saw no faces…

Just a silver blade…

Then slash…

A rapid slash of pain…

With an odd touch of peace…

What happened…? I'll tell you what happened…

I was killed…!

As weird as it sounds, but it’s the truth, it was that silver slash which held behind the true nature of everything, which opened my eyes to the new world of diaphaneity, pureness and clearness, and removed the seal off my heart; so he may see through the human actions all the way down to the pure and true intentions, which, as time will reveal, became my gift as well as my curse.

I don't opine I'm capable of describing what happened to me back then clear, as it happened so quickly, and felt so bizarre. Deep inside I knew something wrong just happened to me, but I couldn't realize it, my mind refused to surrender to the fact that his services are no longer required. That this is the end of the path where you won't be able to understand what's coming…

That this is…

Where my story begins…