Depersonalization

8

Life has different meanings to different people. Some live for others. Their smiles, their happiness is their greatest joy. Others live for themselves. They find fun in everything and live like a rolling stone gathering no moss. Life for them is like falcons flying high in the sky, never looking back to the places they left behind or the family they had cruelly abandoned. They are living selfishly and they love every part of it. Elijah lived for a different reason. He neither lived his life for himself nor for anybody else. Every day he wakes up to the sound of his alarm clock beeping that it is five in the morning. He stays every day crouching on his bed, reminiscing the time when he used to stare at the spotless white wall as punishment for the crimes we did not even commit.

'Be perfect Elijah.'

A familiar voice always calls out to him. Telling him what to do. Shackling him like a curse unable to remove.

'What is the point in being perfect when you cannot be different?' A small voice tells him every day. Elijah had long forgotten who that voice belonged to. Whether they were a boy or a girl. Friend or a foe, or some random passing stranger owing to the vague manner they had spoken. It can be Elijah's fault for remembering only that much and no other detail. For Elijah knew that it was childish to think like that. One should not become different. One cannot become different.

Elijah who had always made it a point to never listen to that small voice in his strived for perfection.

Elijah's messy hair were messily perfect. Elijah's only working left eye was efficiently perfect. Elijah's beautiful face was beautifully perfect. He was imperfectly perfect. And dangerously dangerous. For Elijah lived for only one thing... Death.

The two voices took control of him making him completely obsessed with the notion of perfection and being different at the same time. He searched and searched for the perfect being who was perfect and different from everyone. The whole world seemed like a small pond to him as he fished for the right answer becoming possessed by those voices in his head. After so many pains and failure, sacrifices and the loss of his right eye he found the answer .... Death. It was the epitome of perfection and uniqueness. Death can only happen once. Death is perfect as it never leaves anyone. It does not show anyone mercy may it be good or bad, old or young. Death was unique, it is never celebrated, just denied. You deny the existence of something you know you cannot change. It bangs on your door but you try to avoid it until it reaches you through the deepest part of your being. The right answer to his every cryptic question was simple. It was as simple as death.

'Hmm...hmmm, hmm' a sweet hum was heard. It was melodious and sweet with a tinge of bitterness, as if out of spite. It felt familiar yet so distant. A kind of song difficult to recall yet unable to forget. Elijah walking down the hallway of the school. His shadow falling on the white wall in a long amorphous way. It is said that your shadow represents the state of your soul. Your emotions and scars no matter how much you try to hide are naked in the form of your shadow. Elijah's silhouette was nothing but a mass of darkness. An indefinite abyss.

'It's time for hunt' Elijah murmured whistling in the silent corridor. He reached home into the company of a smelly room with clothes strewn everywhere and opened his wardrobe which housed a pastor's clothes. Black clothes with white strips and a cross made of red rubies. It was a perfect fit and impeccable.

'There its is' He took put on the clothes with a book which read 'Bible of Damnation' in crimson dried colour.

'Life is nothing but darkness. Death is crimson. It is our redemption and our retribution. Death is sweeter than cherries and more bitter than cruellest words spoken by the most beloved people. It has more irony than blood and more hopelessness than the deepest pit.' Elijah's uncle told him once.

Dressed fully he avoided the mirror. He hated mirrors like they were his mortal enemies. Although he did not own any, he still felt uncomfortable and a nauseating sensation lingered at the back of his throat while seeing himself in the mirror. The disgust he found in himself was cunningly reflected by the mirror thus he hated them to the core.

He went out of his apartment and locked the door. Out into the city of Eirlys. A town with sadness and sorrow and a taste of lingering affection, mixed just like a good old wine. A town with sins and flames. He membered the words of his uncle, a grand old man, a true believer and a true sinner used to say'-

Look at this Elijah .... This is limbo.... Look at the flames burning on the streets .... listen to the cries and the suffering...listen to it Elijah and feel the power of despair....so strong and revolting!

Elijah took out the piece of paper from his breast pocket. It was crumpled and folded into four parts as neatly as possible.

'Baker's street'

The town was laid down in three concentric rings. The outermost part of the town had industrial and corporate buildings. Factories and offices lined up at the boundary of the town. It was the busiest part of the city with no vegetation. The concrete jungle spread far and wide enveloping the sky with grey clouds. While the middle tier was for small shops, food supplies and other important supplies for residents and workers alike. Schools were located in this part of the city. The residents lived in the inner most layer. Safe in the presence of various police stations and hospitals. Cradled in the warmth of various parks and parlours. Town was laid a hundred years ago and continued to develop in such a beautiful and dark haven

Bakers' street was in the middle tier of the city. It was the street where baked goods were sold. Taking the train from residential are it took Elijah to thirty minutes to reach to his blessed destination.

'Baker's street left block ...Room twenty-nine from the left corridor'

'Bad ump...Bad ump' the sound of his heart racing reached his heart. The same sense of adrenaline rush flowing through his veins. Energising his every body part, making him sensitive to every sound and screams. Making him completely aware of his forbidden sin. His pleasure coursing through his veins. A familiar sense of happiness that a child gets on seeing a new toy was felt by him.

He reached the room and rang the doorbell.

Once .... twice ...thrice ....in an impatient line

The more he rang the doorbell, the more insatiable his hunger became. Sweat trickled from his forehead in anticipation and he gulped his saliva to quench the thirst in his parched throat.

'Yes? Who are you?' an obese man asked him. He was potbellied with thinning white hair. Sparse growth of hair was present on his chest and arms. Short and stout with his fingers adorned with rings of various shapes and sizes. Wearing nothing but an underwear, smelling the rancid smell of sweat and urine. He looked at Elijah who was just his opposite. With his clean appearance and neat attire, he looked ready to lunge at him.

Elijah smiled at his prey. A smile that makes your muscles ache, a smile that is inherently evil and chilling to the bone.

'Who are you'?' The man asked nervously. He felt the air thicken. Sensing the danger, he was in the quicky started searching for a weapon.

'Your Death' the words sounded cruel yet impassive. Something that comes and goes like a full bloom cycle of spider lilies spattering their crimson hue on the white spotless ground