Writer Games | Death Wish & 51

Task Six: Children Will Listen /QF - Males

District Two - Edgar Phasear

In the beginning I  thought I knew it all. It is rather depressing to find that as the end  drew rapidly nearer that I might not know anything at all. I had looked  at myself as some type of dark hero out to save humanity while the fact  was I was quite probably just a delusional mortal on a wild goose chase  of his own creation. Then again I didn't really know anything for  certain. Perhaps that is what frustrated me most in the world; the fact  that certainty was something I was suddenly questioning the existence  of. I had no doubt that I would most likely sit here in this blood  spattered room attempting vainly to figure out my accuracy until I  rotted to death.

Death, even through  my bitter confusion, seemed desirable. I ignored my twisted temptation  though without a second thought. My life wasn't about what I wanted, it  never had been. My life was about helping my fellow humans in one way or  another. I refused to simply move through life as a shadow of nothing  like my father had, wallowing in himself with no regard for others. Even  now years in the future I felt my blood boil at the thought of the  towering man.

I took a deep breath  and then let it go just as quickly. My father's memory wasn't worth the  brainwork it took for it to cross my mind and quite frankly I had more  important things to be worrying about. They were things I knew my all  too mortal mind could never decode on its own. I knew what I had to do.

"Death." I said  bluntly as I stared at the plaster ceiling above my head. "I need to  know if I'm delusional. I need some type of sign to prove to me you  actually exist, preferably one that does not involve me getting struck  by lightning or acquiring some other type of unnecessary bodily harm.  There I said it. I'm not nearly unmovable as I thought I was, my  apologies." The irritation I felt for myself saturated my words, by the  time I finished my voice was as hard as the castle's thick stone walls  that surrounded me on all four sides.

I didn't expect  anything to happen. However a low creak caught my attention as the cedar  door was pushed open by a draft that wove through the stale air of the  room and hit my face, caressing it with a cool breeze. It smelled  unnaturally sweet and almost instantly upon smelling it I felt dizzy,  the world around me blurring together like a watercolor. I let out an  vexed groan as I let my head nod forward into my hands for a second.

After a long minute I  felt my senses unscramble and I found the energy to look up, only when I  did the scenery had changed. I was strapped into the cockpit of a  plane. As you could imagine I was rather alarmed at the change. How had I  gone from brooding in my little wallow of dispar I'd created for myself  in the arena to flying a plane? Its a vision, something in the back of my mind said and I instantly felt a tad of serenity. Or it's a delusion, another voice suggested, utterly destroying my serenity and sending my mind back to war.

My eyes scanned the  cloudy sky around me before they fell to the control board before me.  This was a military plane noticing the elaborate dials and switches.  This wasn't just a military plane either, it was a bomber.

"Come in, flight  5678.. Your takeoff was unauthorized. Your plane is equipped with nukes.  Over." A raspy voice suddenly crackled over the radio, hitting me with  the words I needed to come to my conclusion. This was my wish. A strange  elation ripped in my system upon the realization that I was actually  here, or to be more precise my soul was here; more likely than not my  body was still in the arena.

I picked up the ugly  black microphone in my palm and held it up to my mouth pressing the  little button. "Command station, this is flight 5678. Come in. Over." I  said, my eyes flickering over the coordinates that were displayed on the  screen before me. I was about 87% sure I was circling the capital,  though it was impossible to tell through the impudent cloud layer.