The Puppets March Research Paper
The Puppet’s March
It should have been raining; the heavens should have opened up and roared in their grief, the sky should have been electrocuted with the force of their anguish, their tears should have washed over mine, erasing them. There should have been a storm today, but there wasn’t. It was a beautiful, twisted summer day, just like it was yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. The church was quieter than on a Sunday morning, only the preacher was speaking, his voice clear and strong and unhindered by grief, reading a pre-written, soulless condolence about a boy who never existed. This whole ceremony was just a brilliant lie told to hide the soul of this town. None of the people here cared about Michael, that he’s …show more content…
I was meant to be there as well but I had a headache so walked home. The pavements were barren, barely illuminated by the street lights and cars lined the road. When I checked the doors some of them weren’t even locked. It was a testimony of how trusting we were, or that was what I thought at the time. Now I understand where the security comes from. Knowledge. In a town where everyone knows everyone and secrets are for the wicked and city folk, no one would ever get away with a theft, and they would never get away from the town after the crime had been committed. Their guilt would trap them here like flies in a …show more content…
I didn’t want to die, not in the true sense of the world. I didn’t want to stop existing. In the back of my mind Doubt spoke to me, ‘maybe you’re mad’ he said, ‘maybe you're going crazy!’ But then I looked up at my brother and saw his smile and I realised everything would be okay. I was dying, but I wouldn’t be dead. My soul would remain, forever roaming the passages of time, existing in a form known not to the masses, but to the ones who will inherit these eyes. My death would be the will of the universe, the will of the Most High. If the one bullet in the revolver pierced my scalp then it would be fates choice, not mine. And then, I could join Michael in the ever realm. The white eternity. The lightness I felt was surely the product of angels, I was already flying in the wake of my decision, I was already at peace. “It’s okay.” Michael said and he clasped my free
It should have been raining; the heavens should have opened up and roared in their grief, the sky should have been electrocuted with the force of their anguish, their tears should have washed over mine, erasing them. There should have been a storm today, but there wasn’t. It was a beautiful, twisted summer day, just like it was yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. The church was quieter than on a Sunday morning, only the preacher was speaking, his voice clear and strong and unhindered by grief, reading a pre-written, soulless condolence about a boy who never existed. This whole ceremony was just a brilliant lie told to hide the soul of this town. None of the people here cared about Michael, that he’s …show more content…
I was meant to be there as well but I had a headache so walked home. The pavements were barren, barely illuminated by the street lights and cars lined the road. When I checked the doors some of them weren’t even locked. It was a testimony of how trusting we were, or that was what I thought at the time. Now I understand where the security comes from. Knowledge. In a town where everyone knows everyone and secrets are for the wicked and city folk, no one would ever get away with a theft, and they would never get away from the town after the crime had been committed. Their guilt would trap them here like flies in a …show more content…
I didn’t want to die, not in the true sense of the world. I didn’t want to stop existing. In the back of my mind Doubt spoke to me, ‘maybe you’re mad’ he said, ‘maybe you're going crazy!’ But then I looked up at my brother and saw his smile and I realised everything would be okay. I was dying, but I wouldn’t be dead. My soul would remain, forever roaming the passages of time, existing in a form known not to the masses, but to the ones who will inherit these eyes. My death would be the will of the universe, the will of the Most High. If the one bullet in the revolver pierced my scalp then it would be fates choice, not mine. And then, I could join Michael in the ever realm. The white eternity. The lightness I felt was surely the product of angels, I was already flying in the wake of my decision, I was already at peace. “It’s okay.” Michael said and he clasped my free