K.
The
pain is all that remains. Crawling in a puddle of my own blood I’m on
the verge of losing consciousness. At least they ignore me now, and the
pain is starting to go away. I close my eyes and fall into the warm
cloud of my own thoughts. Is it my fault? I wanted to change the world
for the better, give people the freedom they deserve. I started my own
DIY lab, I had plans for the future, everything was supposed to turn out
fine. But not anymore.
I didn’t ask for it, I
never wanted to be a self-proclaimed freedom fighter. But someone has
to when the knowledge and technology is taken away from the people. Is
this the consequence of my own choices and actions or of the very thing
I was fighting against - the laws and restrictions that were supposed to
stop slaughters like this one?
As I cease to
feel my legs I hear a voice saying "you owe me one mate" and loud
sirens somewhere in the distance. I try to reach for the nameless
murderer but he disappears as I hear a gunshot. And another, followed by
a loud cannonade. It doesn’t matter. I’m already dead. Someone drags my
body, the body of a deadman. My clothes are being ripped off, the
sirens seem to fade and get louder at the same time.
I feel wet drops on my bare skin, rain falling down on my shoulders. It's raining... It always rains in hell.
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