[Editor’s Choice: Short Story]
The Boy Who Killed His Conscience – Short Story
Photo credit: chelle from morguefile.com
I stood there for a while looking at him. He was sitting on the couch staring back at me with equal intensity. I wanted to tell him “get out! It’s my house, my life, my sanity! Leave me alone!”, but I knew I couldn’t. He was me.
He had become a constant companion now. Always present at the back of my head, the same dull face, the same pleading eyes which said a million things to me at a time. The more I tried to forget that face, get him out of my head, the more prominent his presence would become. He was like the heavy air hanging around me, making my breathing freely very difficult.
That day was exceptionally rough. I had fought with dad, first thing in the morning. Since my brother was killed, he had been trying to impose curfews on me. He was a year younger than me. Very full of life. At times I would be jealous of him for being the center attention in the house. My parents’ life revolved around him. They said it often enough that the only reason they slog day in and day out is because they want him to have a decent education. He was their ‘dream fulfiller’. They saw a promise in him of being everything they couldn’t and of living a life they only dreamt of. They weren’t even wrong in expecting this from him. Marek was actually one of the people who looked at the brighter side of life. His action was filled with a strange enthusiasm and spirit, completely alien to me. He attracted the best company around him and never got into troubles. Even though we were complete antithesis, he, due to some reason, looked up to me. Like I knew something he didn’t, like I could make things right. Being around him made me feel special and more responsible. I still remember his bright eyes which often accompanied his smile. The same eye which pleaded for help the last time I saw them , the last seconds of his life.
“You should pay more attention to your parents”, the boy from the couch said while still staring at me. I looked away, not wanting any more from him. I went to my room, I wanted an escape but he came with me. His presence made me nervous. “I understand what they mean, it’s dangerous out there. I know exactly how they feel, they don’t want me to meet the same destiny. But you have to know how hard it is for me to stay here. To see that sadness, the emptiness on their face which I cannot fill. If I get to them , I would kill them myself!”
“You don’t want to do that! You can’t become one of them. You are better than that. If you play fire with fire, you still get a fire to put off! If you really miss him be what he believed you were.”
How easy it is for him to dice out advises! The more I listen to him, the more I miss my brother because inspite of all my weakness and mistakes he would forgive me.
“I will kill them anyway!”
“Please!” he pleaded. There was pain written large on his face. The same old dull face, the same old pleading eyes.
Marek was not the one to get into any street fights. In fact he never did anything to hurt anyone. He just couldn’t. He would rather be around right people doing right thing. Not one to get under peer pressure either, he would tell me he preferred sitting back than doing something he didn’t feel was right. I wonder then, what went wrong?
I was startled by the loud ring of telephone, pulled out of my thoughts. I jumped out of my bed and went down. Mom had answered already. Its Daren she called and put down the receiver looking disgusted. I hated the way mom reacted to my friends, hated the way she instantly disliked them. I got the phone.
“Last week was rough. There is something I need to tell you” Daren hesitated but continued. “I can’t live with the guilt. I figured its best to confess”. He stopped again. Something in me said that I wouldn’t like him to go on but I held it back “What is it?” I hadn’t realised but by now I was clutching the receiver with both my hands, filled with an unexplainable anxiety.
“I…I got hold of my father’s gun, I was just playing around. I didn’t realise Marek was there. Stan, others and me…. We wanted to help. But we ran instead. We… ”
“What did you do?” I screamed as I banged the receiver down. I felt my weight collapse on the floor. No, this couldn’t happen. No, no the denials echoed in my head. Rage flooded my body. Vengeance took over me like never before. I hadn’t imagined in my wildest dream that my best friend would turn my world around.
I knew how to handle it. Justice, I promised, justice is what Marek would get. Justice is what he deserves. I lugged the handle on door and darted out bursting with rage. I knew what I had to do and it would be easy. Daren’s dad was a cop. We knew he kept his gun in the bedside drawer. Easy access. Daren should have kept his hand off. He killed my brother, he deserves the same fate. I had pledged to give him that. I made my way across the deserted street. Stop! I heard a loud voice calling from behind. I turned around angrier.
The same dull face confronted me, only this time it looked sadder, almost frightened. I ignored him. I rushed forward as he rushed behind me and pleaded. Soon his voice faded, my resolve was solid. I moved ahead.
I can’t recall what happened in those few seconds, in Daren’s house. All I remember is his horrified face. I had fought for Marek’s last rights. But strangely I felt heavier inside. It didn’t give me the sense of satisfaction that it should have. My head was spinning. I caught myself running back home. I touched my face, it felt moist. I couldn’t figure out what was happening to me! I felt just as out of control as I had when I had left the house. I opened the door with a thud and entered. My legs were shaking. I ran back to my room, apprehensive if I would have to face the ‘dull face’ again. By the time I reached my door, I was shaking uncontrollably. I somehow managed to open it and my knees crashed on the hard floor. I hadn’t taken one but two lives today. I found my conscience lying dead on the floor.
__END__
