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Thursday, September 20, 2007

In Somnia Part 5: The Driver

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In Somnia

Part 5: The Driver

    I feel like my head is splitting apart. I can’t focus anymore. I don’t know what I want from this world. I cant even begin to imagine what the fuck the world wants from me. There is something horrible inside of me. It grows deeper and deeper, consuming all the light that dwells within, until there is almost nothing left of it.

    I wasn’t born special. I wasn’t given privileges that most people have. But I pulled my shit together. I became a relatively successful guy. I figure that where I come from, I was something of a success story.  But to most people, I just haul around rich people in an overgrown taxi. They would think that, but they don’t know my boss like I do. No one knows him like I do.

    He showed me a world of unimaginable pain. He showed me evil and hatred in their most honest form… and I liked it. I helped him clean it up. The terrible things I have seen… I can’t live like this. After what he did… to those girls. And what I did… to cover it up for money. I shouldn’t be alive.

    I wish I wasn’t.

    The last one… a blonde. That’s all I know about her. That’s all I ever seen of any of them. After he was done with them, that’s all I could use to identify them. I would drive, late at night. Drive around the Point and through the city. It wasn’t my job to find them. He would choose for himself. I could usually guess when he was gonna tell me to stop the limo. Whenever a girl was alone, not another soul in sight.

    “Pull over,” he said.

    And so I did. He rolled down his window. Whispered to her promises and lies. Then she got into the car. I wish I knew what he told her to make her trust him. But the condition of my services was that I, under no circumstances ask any questions.  

    After I buried the body last night, I fell to my knees and I begged God for forgiveness. I couldn’t take the guilt anymore. That night was all I could take. The pain… the sorrow. He was inhuman.

    The next day, I went to my old priest, Father Mike. I didn’t know whether or not I would tell him about what I have done. I just needed to see a friendly face. I walked into the church and found Father Mike cleaning up after the 7:00PM mass.

    “Hello, Father.”

    “My goodness! I haven’t seen you in years! How have you been?”

    “Not good, Father. I need to tell you something.”

    “A confession, son?”

    The words wouldn’t come to me. I didn’t know what to say, or where to begin.

    “You know you can tell me anything. God loves us all, no matter what the sin.”

    “What if God doesn’t exist?”

    He was now at a loss for words. I was shaking and sweating. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I wanted to run.

    “What I mean, Father, is… what if I did something so terrible… that… If God existed… how could he allow something so terrible to happen?”

    “What have you done?”

    He sounded like he wanted to help. But, the accusing stair of the priest was more then I could stand.

    “I’m sorry… Father. This was a mistake. I have to go.”

    I began to walk away. But he was walking behind me, whispering warnings… “Wait… please, stop! Tell me what you’ve done! What have you done?!”

    I didn’t turn around. I got into my car and watched Saint Mary’s disappear in my rear view mirror. I decided to go to another church. I would go into the confessional, I would make sure the screen was up, and I would tell who ever was listening everything. My conscience was to heavy a burden to carry alone.

    I walked inside of the church… it was late now. I went inside the confessional and I waited for the priest. All the while, thinking. I reflected on everything. Why did I do it? Was it just the money? Was it the power? I… remember. I remember the surge that went through my body as I hacked them into pieces. Oh my God… I’m just as bad as he is. My soul tore itself apart. I felt like there was no place in this world for me. I don’t deserve the life that has been given to me. The priest opened the door on the other side of the screen and sat down.
    “What are your sins, my child?”

    “I hurt them. I burned them from the inside with my pain… I ripped them apart… and I liked it.”

    Just then I heard a noise as the priests door was ripped open and a loud thud as he hit the ground. And an all to familiar voice…

    “A confession? You were going to sell me out. Is that how you pay me back after everything I did for you?”

    I stepped out of the confessional, because I knew what was coming… and he was there waiting. Staring me down almost with a strange curiosity, but with an anger I haven’t seen in his eyes before. I don’t think it was quite so appealing for him to strike me as it was for him to hit those girls.

    “Do you have any IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?! I trusted you! You wanted to ruin me. You wanted to RUIN EVERYTHING I WORKED FOR?!”

    He stuck me once more, and I fell. There was no sense in trying to talk to him or even to fight back. I deserved this. He took out his knife. His favorite one. The one with the curved blade. Just then, I saw Father Mike… standing in the doorway of the church. Just as my boss was ready to tear me apart, Father Mike jumped on him. They struggled and fought over the knife. The priest was an old man. He couldn’t stop him, but he got the knife away from him. But that only pissed him off. He was an animal… I didn’t know a human being was capable of that kind of brutality. Father Mike didn’t even have a chance to scream before his throat was ripped out.

    The events of that night will haunt me forever. The cop sitting in front of me seems sympathetic. It’s almost like he was there. It’s as if he understands the toll this has taken on me. I trust him, but I don’t know why.
    “I can’t remember what happened after that. I think you know the rest… detective.”

    “Yeah. I got the picture. Why are you telling me this? A little late, don’t you think? The old priest, the one in the confessional,  might sue us for keeping him in a holding cell for this long.”

    “A little late… but it’s right.”

    “Well, I never believed he could do something like that. And Father Mike O’ Brien… he doesn’t fit the profile for the Wake Point murderer. But, you don’t want to bargain? With your help… if we take this guy down, you could get a reduced sentence.”

    “I don’t deserve it.”

    He looked at me, still understanding. I believe he really wants to help me. I need to warn him of what waits for him.    

    “But, just know… he will come after you. He will come after everyone you care about. He has these… hired thugs. Paid killers. They do the work he won‘t even touch.”

    “I‘ll take my chances,” he said with a smile. It looks like he doesn’t seem concerned. He doesn’t know what awaits him. Enough blood has been shed. I don’t want anyone else to die. Everyone who helps me… everyone who cares about me dies and it’s all my fault.

    I looked him dead in the eye, to make sure he understands that his life… and the life of his family, depends on him taking caution and heeding my warning.

    “You don’t know him like I do.”
8:37 am - 3 comments - 8 Kudos - Report!
IHATECHILDREN wrote on Sep 20th, 2007 12:10pm

Amazing, as always.


Shard Heilia wrote on Sep 21st, 2007 4:06am

Yeah...This is disturbing shit. But good. =/


mdwallin wrote on Sep 25th, 2007 3:41pm

I really don't know what to say.
The way you describe what they are feeling really gets the imagination going. The way you can make everything balance on the one string, then cut it so swiftly that it stays in place for a few seconds before it realises its been broken.
man you are so cool!!!!
you have GOT to keep these coming. ANd im serious about gettin this stuff published. Get it assesed and looked over and everything, get some people to talk about how much they like it and I think 'Penguin' or 'Allen and Unwin' would accept it :D


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