So much of my family has completed the journey. They've all claimed suffering and growth. Walked the miles, traveled on the grimy road, full of translucent feelings and deep footsteps that trample over one another. All when they had become men or women. I am now eighteen, it is my time to lead. To be cleansed, so we can all look at each other, so we can all be the same. I had prepared for this pilgrimage all my life, mentally and physically. Like everyone before me, and everyone after me. I dream of when I reach the end of the bridge, I will grab the bar and shine my life. Polish my sin, ready myself for temptation, prepare for what I am supposed to become. Each one's journey is different, but they all walk in the same direction, straight. I woke up at the time we all woke up, I showered, ate my breakfast and readied my bones. My family hugged me. My father, mother, my sisters. They hold me, it feels tight and warm, they whisper in my ear that they love me. After my goodbyes they walk back inside and stare out the window, as to stare at the start. I don't have much with me, no phone, no water nor food, only the clothes on my stomach and legs. My white t-shirt and my blue jeans. We start the journey with nothing, but end with everything. I walk forward. My path is through a dirt road, a road where dust runs behind every step you take. Where memories are made but swept away within an evening. I miss my family already. Each movement and I'm farther from them, farther from my sanctuary and what my mind has grown used to. I can feel the rays of the sun form blisters on my clear skin. I can feel the road inside the webs of my toes. I continue to walk, and walk, and walk. Not much to ponder on, not much to look at either. I've traveled past civilization, all I'm with are the rocks, and the dying shrubs, and the joshua trees. Each mile I trek feels the same, I keep busy with thoughts of my friends and family. I wonder what dinner we'll have when I'm back, I wonder what movies I'll fall asleep watching, and what dream I'll forget when I wake up. I've progressed hours and hours into my expedition, still the sun holds a grudge and the sky is full of fish. I look forward as sweat moistens my temples, the road has stopped. All that is in front of me is rocks, behemoths of stone and age. I wipe my forehead and stare at each direction. It's all the same, each path is dark, I need to know which choice will yield a shot or a fire. ! I hear a shot in the distance. I quickly stumble and turn back. There is a man running towards me with a rifle. His face is covered in filth and poorly shaved hair, a layer of sweat forms upon his anger. He is wearing a white tee and blue jeans, although he is far I can see that they are stained with years of grime. I snap out of my observation and start to run. I ran straight towards the rocks ahead, forgetting about any path there could have been. As I run I turn back, he's getting closer by the second. I can feel my bone's regret as I kick up sand and destroy the graves of plants. I focus forward, I can hear the shots, they sting my fragile ears. I see the holes they make in the ground instead of the blood it forces out of my skin. My lungs start to burn and my stomach begins to cry. I use up the energy my body is willing to barter to sprint towards a collection of giant stones. I reach them and begin to climb up, the granite scrapes against the sinews of my skin as it turns them bright red. I move through the stones faster than I had ever moved before. Suddenly, I tripped. I fall face first onto a stone. My torso meets the rock with such force that I can feel my ribs give up. My vessel feels freezing with pain. I slowly turn my body around, my nerves start to crinkle. I lie on my back and move my hand over my face to block the sun. I can feel the tears roll past my eyes. Frightened as I had never been before, a dark figure appears in front of my light. I move my hand, the man is perched on the rock in front of me. I start to plead with him, yell for mercy. Hysterics consume me, my face, dirty, red, and wet. I scream my heart out of my chest but the line falls flat. The man points the rifle at me, cocks it back, and smiles. I close my eyes and cringe the muscles in my face. The man chuckles and says in a dismal voice, "I'm sorry." I close my eyes even tighter. My journey, my family... what will they think. I haven't reached the end, I'm a failure, I'm nothing, I've failed! My pain becomes me and I scream. I hear a shot and a fall. I-I can feel the cheap bullet bury itself six feet under my shoulder skin. I feel the tear of my flesh and the cells that rush out of it. I scream and scream and scream. I force open my eyes, the man is gone. I pressed my hand firmly on my shoulder and slowly moved myself up. I looked towards the ground and saw the man lying on top of the dirt. The rifle still in his hand, his head leaking onto the orange muck, transforming it into a vile burgundy. I take action and swiftly move off of the rocks. My body has been tortured, dust makes its way into my wound and burns it into a memory. My torso still suffering, I slowly, but quickly, waddle forward. I try to ponder what had happened to me, but I was too focused on my pain and escaping the thought of what occurred. Although the agony never ceased I was thankful for every breath I took, every desire to drink water, every paper cut or migraine, all the rocks, and dead shrubs, and joshua trees. I contemplated turning back but the idea was cremated almost immediately. I walk forward. I do not know when my journey will end, but I can feel it's completion nearing. More hours pass, the sky begins to hold less fish, the sun likes me much more, and my wound has started to numb. My surroundings have stayed the same but in front of me... the ecosystem has changed. The desert has transformed into a quaint, beautiful pasture. Bright green grass on top of the dry brown mire. I quickly move towards it, the pasture isn't huge but it's perfect enough for a nap. I approach the tail of it and rub my eyes... it's still there. I walk on top of it. I go on my knees and press my face against the grass. I can hear it's joy, and feel their petals wipe across the muck and injury my face carries. I can smell the purity of the soil, it moves up my nostrils into my nostalgia. For the first time in my journey, I smile, I laugh. I move my hands in circles and enjoy the fruit of my travels. A gun cocks. My eyes open wide. "Turn around, I'm not done." I close my eyes once more, and turn my body around. I open them and am greeted with the black depths of the barrel of a rifle. "What do you want?"
"..."
"Please, just tell me what you want. I don't understand. I don't deserve this!"
The sodium boils once more and my face starts to soak. Why didn't he say anything? Why is he doing this? What did I do?! "What did I do?!" He only smiles. He screams. I flinch as I stare at the terror on his face. He looks at me and starts to cry, I glance down and see a snake wrapped around his leg, biting his thigh. The snake red, entirely red. I slowly shift backwards, still looking directly into his soiled eyes. He's frozen in pain... like I was. He couldn't move or talk, only scream and think. He points his rifle at me, I gulp. Suddenly a gorgeous magenta hawk swoops down from the heavens and knocks the rifle out of his hand and circles back. Its voice triumphs the man's cries as it echoes into the distant wind. This forces him to the ground where the hawk starts to claw at his face. My breathing becomes studded and heavy. I work myself up and walk towards the man. I stand over him, still fearing for my life. I take the rifle from off the ground and point it at him. My hand crinkles with torment as it sleeps on the rifle's trigger. I shut my pupils and... "Wait"
"Hello," I said.
I look down at the man, there is a blue scorpion on his chest, it looks up at me, "Are you sure you want to end his life?"
"Of course he wants to, he shot the kid." My eyes depart to the bloody snake on the man's leg, "It'd be stupid not to kill him, after all he's done to you. He should feel."
"You know, I have to agree." The hawk flew into the air and stared at me, its mauve feathers attracted my eyes, it said, "Just think... if you let him go he could hurt you more. Your family too, your whole life."
"You don't know that, he didn't kill you, you shouldn't kill him. Forgive and forget. His life is not yours to take, God is not your role."
"Ugh."
"He doesn't deserve to die."
"Yes he does, she agrees with me too, you're outnumbered."
"I don't always agree with him, but now it seems there's no other option. He can't go on living. He can't forget what he's done." The hawk said to the scorpion.
"Regardless! Of what any of you think... It's up to you..." The scorpion observed me with its bright black eyes, "So, what are you going to do?"
The scorpion, the snake, and the hawk all stare at me. I roll my eyes into the back of my skull. I stare at each being, each thought. I hear the snake hiss, the scorpion's tail rattle, the hawk's maroon wings flap back and forth. Finally, I stare at the man, his tears haven't stopped. I stand closer to his colorful corpse and reach out my hand. The man gulps, the snake and scorpion move off of the man. He grabs on my arm and I pull him up. The bewilderment in his face, the surprise in the muscles. I leer at his eyes, he thanks mine with gratitude and tears. "Just go." He says back to me, "I'm sorry," and walks away. The snake slithers into the sand, the scorpion crawls into a nearby shelter, the hawk flies away into the ocean. After a little while I see the man fade into the horizon, his white shirt becoming a blip in the back of my mind. Finally, when it appears as if he's gone, I drop the rifle. Turn around, and continue my journey. I walk on top of the pasture. Blood leaks out of my shoulder onto the nauseating grass. I amble further into my journey. By now the sun loves me and the skies creatures are almost extinct. Whiles pass as I dedicate my thoughts to what I have experienced. My throat feels dry and swollen, I require water more than I ever have before. My eyes start to fade out of existence and my surroundings begin to disappear. History starts to repeat itself, fortunately and unfortunately. In between the joshua trees and petrified crystals enveloped in dust, lied a puddle. A puddle the size of a kiddy pool. It reminded me of the one I used to swim in during my summers as a child. The pink and yellow plastic wrapped around the cool sensation of happiness. My mother manned the music, my father cooked the meat, my sisters kept me company. As we basked in the summer we wish we'd never forget. I arrive at the puddle and drink some of the water it blossoms. It coats my esophagus, I remember the simple joys of life. I drank for a minute that felt like most of my eighteen years. I lift my head up from the puddle. I see myself. The reflection off the water. My shoes are torn, my jeans have become the deserts, my shirt wrenched with blood, sweat, and mud. My wound is bleeding and so is my face. My hair is grubby and filled with miniature tumbleweeds. My body is filthy, but my mind feels clean. A reflection meant to bring the man back brings me nothing... nothing but a smile. I smile at myself, breathe in, breathe out, and start walking once more. I feel complete. I walk the same way I had when I began my journey. My bones won big and my vessel has replenished its energy. I'm almost here. I can feel the end. Water rushed through me, I started to run. I run and run and run. Through the shrubs, past the trees, leaving nothing in my past. I make the wind, it tickles my face. I feel what they've all felt. I stop... I'm here. I look around. My eyes focused on the ground, looking for it. I search, vigorously, through the desert's roots. In the middle of two small rocks, there it was. As white as the big bang and eyes of the innocent. A beautiful sight. I pick up the bar of soap. Silky youthful white surface. I hold it in my hand, press it against my chest. Deeper, and deeper. Rubbed it against my face, put the bar in my hand. I look in the space of the wasteland.
I throw the fucking thing.
