Requiem aeternam dona eis. I thought requiescat in pace can also mean rest in peace with forever indirectly meaning since Ezio said this when honoring the dead. Latin is surely interesting.
The tower was near. A friend was reported to have an accident which I wasn’t aware of. He was fine when saying good bye to me at the airport. I remember him bringing a grey travel bag and a backpack. He said he was going abroad for no more than a week. I knew his promise and I also knew which he wouldn’t be able to keep. After a long flight and finished with video games on my phone, I arrived at local hospital. The receptionist greeted me and asked if there was something she could help. I mentioned his name.
Luckily, he had just come out from surgery and was being moved to ICU. I spoke to the nurse office about my intention of visit. Undoubtedly, the head nurse refused my presence because the patient wasn’t ready. I knew he was ready. I knew his physical prowess that he wouldn’t be downed that easy. The head nurse agreed that I might enter his room after anesthetic wore off. I waited.
My watch posed on 0900 local time. It was morning and I had enough sleep. I asked to the nurse office if I could pay my visit. They agreed and accompanied me to a chamber. The nurse left me alone with the patient. That patient still sounded asleep. I sat not far from the bed next to the window. I managed to get that day’s paper and started reading. The accident was on the headline. Not a moment later, he gained consciousness.
So, your run has finished? You’re late for what? Two years? Several months? Oh, don’t look so surprised. The coffeemaker told me where to find you.
And? Where do you want me to do? Go back, again? I got nothing left anywhere and nowhere to go. The only one I can wish to get me back on my feet is me. I have always wanted to get to the tower. Either being alone or not, I have always wanted to. And I did.
But at what cost? Think about it, kiddo. Really think about it.
Oh, don’t kiddo me. I knew your story. You had also your share of similar memories. Bitter ending which you despise so much. You ran around before settling on your shop, didn’t you? Why can’t I?
While still sitting down, I took a deep breath. I looked upon this young man being impressed and, maybe, obsessed by the idea of a living which he had been pursuing. I know from his parents his wounds, sweats, sleepless night, sadness, and anger. I understand his inferior feeling because being unable to achieve anything. His expression might be showing courage and spirit but I know people’s eyes too well. He was lost and instead of having people to support him, he was cast aside.
Did you find whatever you were looking before the accident occurred?
I asked him without looking at him. Newspaper was still opened on my hand. His voice was still weak. I was informed that there was a sudden explosion near the tower. That caused the window to shatter and some of the pieces stroke unfortunate people below. He was one of them.
No, I didn’t. Just like you said. Just like people said.
There was some vibration in his voice as if he was likely to break. His head was too crowded and there were too much to comprehend. Reality never was and never is easy. The only easy day is yesterday. This we both knew. I kept my silence until I finished with my newspaper. After that, I folded the paper back as it was before and walked to his bed.
Here. Should you want to know or just to kill time until nurse comes to administer your daily dose of medicine. I’ll be in the coffee shop.
After leaving him alone on his bed, I thought there should be more reasons as to why he chose this place. I knew the tower and that wasn’t that great. I understood his aspiration but to this extent? The only thing I saw during my bitter conversation with that man was his soul starting to deteriorate. I wonder if the coffee maker would share some details. It’s not like I wanted to get involved in other people’s matter but seeing how lucky he was avoiding death, it surely picked my interest.
Not all who wander is lost, Ja?
So, what are you? Wandering or lost?
And what are you exactly?
Playing dead? Or actually dead? I don’t know.
Stupid words between friends.
Three Places. Such as they are, Poland, France, and Russia.
In Poland is Auschwitz, one of many World War II death camp established by The Third Reich. Along with Auschwitz, there are Treblinka, Sobibor, and the others.
In France is Oradour-sur-Glane, one of many silent witness of terrifying massacre done also by the same regime, if I may call it regime. There is also the beach of Normandy where the biggest marine assault ever took place.
In Russia is Stalingrad, one of many fierce battles happened during second world war.
Seriously, who would open the first topic of daily post and write about it? Of course the cities mentioned above have recovered from their wound. Why would people go to visit and reminisce the old days?
He had never thought that leaving this whole humanity would be that easy. Some people around him whispered solemn oaths while the other got lost in echo of silence. His eyes gazed upon the sky, cloudless one. Sun rays hammered the soil effortlessly and the breeze blew his hair gently. He laid on bare soil covered with brown grass. Rain had not poured for quite sometime then. Around him were figures clad in black chanting something in language he did not recognize. His body became lighter and his sense became even more relaxed.
His memory went back when he was a little kid running around the village. During the rain, he walked around the park while imitating the sound of luftwaffe shooting mustang above the clouds. His mother often scolded him for being reckless. He seemed to be a young and healthy boy at his age. His father smiled seeing his only son being cheerful.
Time however proved to be the villain as he stole away the boy’s teenage years. He was then drafted as a pilot of a Fokker D.VII while dreaming to be a public servant working behind table. He did, in fact, achieved his dream but with one slight difference: he worked behind parabellums. He expected to wear a suit and became the most fashionable man and he was. Flying suit wouldn’t be that bad for ladies below, he thought.
Several tours above the sky made him wonder if he did what necessary. The clouds were bright, beautiful, and white. He often flew together with migrating birds. White carpet was there to welcome him to the new kingdom where the citizen were those with wings. There he thought that he had seen the heaven.
He was then sitting against a boulder, a big one. It was only natural if he saw the same heaven from below again that day. His right hand reached the sky and grabbed some of its blue. The cloud was not there and he missed the sound of those birds. He missed the gentle breeze above the sky and the glory he was bestowed while visiting the kingdom above. He then wondered if he could get up there once again but a moment later he realized it did not matter. He had stopped being worried.