A Minute Before Murder

Panic grips my heart. When you read that line in the books, you just yawn. But when you experience it in real life, you dont think, hey let me check if there is a better phrase, you go back to the cliched. Because, you are too busy feeling it, to be thinking about it (and better phrases for it).

Perhaps I am being too afraid. Perhaps I need not be scared. But its me, and I know what I am feeling. I can feel the fear. And I dont want to be afraid.

Something snaps. I want to kill it. So what if its a life. So what if its as important to The Supreme, as I am. Its not important to me. Perhaps this is what they mean, when they talk about porn objectifying women. When you dont think of them as life, but just as what they mean to you. When a Life, simply becomes It.

Hmmm I dont want to compare myself with a porn reader. After all, everyone objectifies. When a child thinks its parents aren't supposed to have feelings or will or wishes of their own, and that they exist merely to buy a TV, handover the remote, order the Best Junk Food, do their homework,and get them gifts whenever they go out, isnt the child objectifying its parents? And the child is the symbol of innocence. And after all haven't I already objectified The Supreme. The Supreme exists, for me. The Supreme created life. I dont worry if The Supreme has a life or whether, The Supreme ought to be given a break and The Supreme ought to have a life of his/her own. Objectifying a Life is being innocent and perhaps being religious.

Idiot ! Why think now? Why not just Act? Act before It attacks me. Oh perhaps I am being ridiculous. Surely It wont "attack" me. But then its very existence, gets on my nerves. And its existence itself is an attack on my harmony and happiness.

Logic and morals abandon me. I seem to be engulfed by a feeling of frustration and desperation. A scream comes from within, saying, I can't be happy like this. I cant be happy as long as It is around me. And I am not able to drive it away. And its my space, so I wont walk away. And if this situation must go, It must Go. Life would be so beautiful (for me), if it doesn't exist (in my space). And what is the point of my life, if I cant try to be happy?

A small voice whispers within me. Perhaps I need help, I am being paranoid, after all It hasnt really hurt me, and probably wont. I look around, hoping someone would reason with me. But there is no one except me and It. And now above the emotions, rises a calculative cloud. If I can get away with it, why not do it. Another calculation, what if I fail? Probably I wont.

Atleast let me make my point clear. Its not going to be a point of no return. Not in this case.

After all I am not like Bin Laden attacking USA, I am like Bush preventing a possible attack, by attacking.

There is no panic, only purpose in my mind. And is there a high now? A feeling of power? In being able to destroy, what took The Supreme, some time and thought to create. Aah so tough to create life, tougher perhaps to live it, and yet so easy to destroy it. And easier still to not feel guilt or remorse over it. Because I am always right. And anyway guilt would be pointless, because I cant undo it.

I look normal. And I feel that I am normal. Therefore, what I want to do, ought to be normal. Others can label me as cruel or unkind. But they arent in my shoes. Normal, is just a point of view. Normal doesnt mean moral. If everyone did, what I want to do, then the act would be normal.

I look around now, for a weapon. I grab one, and move softly behind It. I want to be calm, yet my heart is pounding. What if I make a mistake. Could It realise, what I had been thinking.

I take a swing, throwing back my hand up in the air, hoping to give the maximum force in the first blow, so that I don't have to fight It. And though I wanted to be silent, I scream..

321
More Short Stories