Death_Is_the_Enemy

| Death is the Enemy | Muaz Ahmad | | Ms. Ubie | 10/10/2011 | | It is always the same. I am running through the forest. The surreal trees, wrapped in vines, threaten to choke me. I run short and steady steps, my breath always comes in gasps. My chest aches from the pressure of anxiety. My flat feet sting from the triumph of blisters on the rugged terrain. The cool wind rushes all over my skin, stinging the bleeding wounds on my body. I can feel my enemy getting closer to me. I continue to force my body to move faster and faster, until I am set free through the night, the leaves, stars and sky is a blur. And he still continues gaining on me. I want to grow wings, to fly away from this awful place. He caught my mother and will surely catch me, being much smaller and shorter. My entire body continues to ache in pain as I continue to push faster. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, I repeated in my mind. Why can’t I wake up' Why can’t I stop running' I know this is not real. Yet my adrenaline is rushing and forcing me onward. I cannot stop moving, I no longer feel my flattened feet. They’ve numbed from the pain, my entire body has numbed from the pain. I could no longer feel the warm blood flowing through my body, no longer feel the wounded scars as numb as they are. I could only feel the coldness of the night, my breath fog up right before me. Oh no, I had seen the light, ignited spreading wildly through the trees. The orange light came closer and closer. My mind is frozen in panic, not wanting to go forward but my body pushes me forward. My legs continue to drive on hitting the hard ground with the same steady rhythm. As I break through the trees, I’m entering a seemingly endless valley all engulfed in flames. The ground is now covered in ashes and burning coals. I run across them not even feeling them. The cuts on my body don’t hurt anymore either. Oh please. Let me wake up. Let me wake up before he catches me. I race across the ground, coals sinking into my feet, the smell of burning flesh searing my nostril. My hair sizzles. My eyes water from the smoke. I want to look behind, see if maybe He has fallen behind, maybe the fire has prevented him. But I’m too afraid. What if he is closer' I forced myself into this valley, this valley I know very well. I used to come here often as a child. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why I’m always here. My memories of this valley were unforgettable. These were one of my last good memories as a child. I remember the rolling green hills of fresh green grass. Family picnics, luxurious sand to make sandcastles, my mother’s smile. Maybe, that’s why I’m here. I am in this valley running away from this savant monster because he has to destroy any trace of happiness left in my life. Any memory with her, with my darling mother, is now tarnished, no matter how sweet it was. Everything around me is dead. The trees that used to house the squirrels and birds are inducted in flames. The soil which gives nutrients is now burning in sizzling coal. The fresh air that gave us clean oxygen is now choking out the night sky. Everything is dead now, from the flame. Now there is a change in landscape. I feel my legs starting to tire up, my heart pumping so hard that I feel it’s about to burst. But what lies ahead of me left me in complete joy, so unexplainably wonderful, I find myself in ease to continue on. I barely noticed how the sky has cleared all of a sudden, that it is now day-time. That the ground has turned green with fresh grass, and the vines of the trees turn into full blooms. But what my central focus is, what my attention is aimed on in front of me, is the beautiful woman standing in this peaceful scene. I run towards her, moving faster now that I am motivated from love rather than fear. As I run to my mother, as I embrace her, I know it is only just a dream. But I don’t care. As long as she is here with me now, alive in my heart, I have nothing to fear. My eyes are squeezed tight as I continue to hug her, afraid to open them, afraid she might disappear. I inhaled her sweet scent. She had always smelled so good like Lavender, her favourite scent. When I was little she used to tuck me in bed, I used to fall asleep to that smell. But that’s not what I smell now. I smell death, rotten corpses, decaying flesh, broken hearts and endless tears. Suddenly the arms around me are squeezing too tightly. I pull away using all my strength and my arms release me. I look up and instead of seeing my mother’s beautiful smile, I see Death. He has finally caught up with me. He is clothed entirely in black, the hood of his cloak is fully drawn up, shielding his face in utter darkness. I don’t have to see him clearly but I know why he is here. Death, I think looks different to everyone. Depending on your distinct beliefs it can be release from this life sending you to a better place or it can be served as a punishment. To those who are sick, it is a good rewarding thing. But most people are terrified of it. But I feel something more than fear now, looking up at the thing that took my mother and other countless lives. I feel hate, much more powerful than fear. I hate this man, if human he is, more than I hate myself. More than the last thing I said to my mother was “I hate you”. More than I hate not crying at my mother’s funeral. I feel more hate for Death than I could ever imagine. And this is the part when I wake up. I open my eyes to the boring clear ceiling in my room. I hear the traffic from the nearby highway. My room is lit up by the red numbers on my electric clock, 5:46 am. My sheets are soaking wet from sweating. I feel exhausted as if I had ran a marathon. My heart races as I spin back to reality. I know I will not sleep again tonight. I get out of the bed, go over to my dresser. I pull the photo album out of my top drawer, where I have pasted various parts of my life. As I turn the pages, I see pictures of vacations, first swimming lessons, new houses, old friends. Then I come to the last page which is not completed so far. I think of my enemy, the one who so desperately pursues me in my dreams. Death is the ultimate enemy. There is no escaping him. And it will catch everyone. Eventually, he will catch me.