Sunday, 28 June 2009
To whom it may concern,
Writing a letter to someone you haven't met is not as dumb as I thought. Nothing makes any sense any more, so I don't expect that what you will read will differ. I only want to open a hole in this wall and breathe while I can still do it.
Today I may have killed thirty or forty bodies, I lost all count. Captain M said I did a great job. My mother used to repeat the same thing when I came back from school with a good grade. I could easily grab those marks about history or maths. Now I can do it better with any shotgun. It is clean and fast, my ears don't hurt, my fingers are stuck on the trigger and my eyes only target the rest of the heads I can see.
They taught me to respect the others, to obey a system of rules based on the justice and fairness. While I speak, I still smell the last sighs of my last victim on my neck. I had to bury my knife to put an end to his motions. A.S were the letters written on his shirt. Normally I keep some belongings of the last victim of the day. I feel as if I owed them that. When you kill somebody you feel as if you took something from him, and i try to keep that in mind to remind myself that I am still sane.
So tonight, I will be AS for you. I live in I. and I have two kids and one dog. Not very original? I am happy, that's what's genuine about me. My father was in the army too, defending our country from the dangers from abroad. They tried to harm our innocent people and I dedicated my life to help the poor ones. Now I am here in the sand, helping my countrymen defeat the enemy. I wish I could see my wife again. She must be waiting in the dining room, with a cigarette on her mouth watching the sunset. I wish I was there, between her blouse and her heart.
Too bad AS will not be back to her wife, neither will I. This is the end of all the things, when you know that you've lost your humanity, the trace of nature in you has disappeared. It's funny that you become the devil they preach, the enemy is yourself because no one is as fierce as you. In this system I am one of the best. I work hard and my boss respects me. You pay me for doing this, a system that salutes the cruelty and the lack of humanity. If I come back you will feel ashamed of me, you will cross the street and ignore me as if I was one of those drunkards without a job.
At first I thought of that door home, open for me to come back. The smell of a nice meal and the great company of those who love you waiting there with a smile on their faces. But then i realised that my face will have changed, my mind and soul will have made me a difuse figure in the doorway. A face marked by crime, a mask covering what you called myself, a hideus portion of doom drilled under my ears, preventing you from seeing me. The new face so real and terrifying that you will not be able to separate it from my previous identity. Your fears will make it last forever on my face, even if the mirror still lies to me.
You will all close the door on me, you will kick me on the sides and make me bleed on the street. You will put some blanket on my corpse and label me unknown soldier.
As i think of this, I ask you to please understand that tomorrow I will kill again, here in this place that is all the hell i could ever think of. I will meet another A.S., B.G. or K.J. I will meet their wives and kids, I will feel their lives in me. And at the end of all this ruin of a past life, there waits no peace for me, no heaven or hell. My life will be taken by other, and maybe he will write about me too.
Posted by Bohemian at 14:26