Screams
Disclaimer: I touch on the subject of suicide and have mentions of gore.
Have you ever heard the screams of someone so close to death? Someone who tried to bury themselves so far down an abyss? To drown their pain in the one thing they felt would give them solace? Who was found -- unwanted -- and dragged away from their release; kicking and screaming like a wild animal tortured and then skinned. They clawed at metal and pleaded to be left to continue what they started. The object of release was taken which left them only desperate actions left. Flailing -- like a fish flung from water -- to crack the thick shell that held in all of the memories and thoughts. But it did not break and nor did the grips to hold them back. An outsider may think it a rescue but to workers, a capture.
I had just been down near this abyss; walking and checking for anything out of place. Machinery ticked, electricity hummed and water babbled but nothing spoke. My watch was for those of inanimate nature after all. Someone came as I returned to my post. They had concerns and questions for one other. Answering with all that I knew was apparently not enough of the story...yet. They took off down the stairs, to where the abyss lay through its metal teeth.
I stood there dumbfounded, confused….scared; unknowing, and knowing what was transpiring but unable to let my mind understand. The screams did not stop, even as floods of people poured in from above. Questions, yelling, and more but I stood glued to the metal floor. I remember every face that traveled down the well-traveled stairs. One was as clear as a pane of glass. It belonged to one despicable humanoid. The voice inside told me to intercept, to stop his fowl presence from choking the already strangling air below. Again, I could not move; stuck like an animal in a trap with no place to go. I could have helped ease the screams….at least I think I could have but instead, as the bastard descended the screams turned into a noise -- as no other explanation can explain -- that no human should emit.
Soon, the “doctors” came to drag the worn-out beast from their hole, their once means of escape. Streaks of blood were the only evidence of their fight for what they once thought could be freedom.
Later, we were all shuffled to where the sun hid behind the clouds like cattle to be questioned. The few who had heard stood blank, empty, and lost. Most ignorant to what had transpired started to chatter and rumors started to stain the words from below; foul language was used to explain a situation that had no real sense.
Suddenly, the gears started to grind slowly in my head. Reaching to an empty holster with my hand I felt only loss to where a knife usually lived. A friend who tinkers with machines to relax but has no tool of their own asks me -- who does -- to borrow the digget that we aspire not to be. Rusted and worn is the real means of the friend's plan and not the others that play on the same piece. A once sharp and effective means of escape hindered their progress enough for the friend that asked questions to find them hiding down below, under my feet the whole time but not in my thoughts enough...apparently.
I should have seen something, right? There are always supposed to be signs that let us know. We are constantly berated by boring seminars led by ignorant sheep, but it seems that the signs lack the luster underneath in the loud, metal coffins in which we work.
Then there is after; the questions from those who do not know, the strangers from different lands of metal. The creak of the only exit allowed -- begrudgingly -- someone to enter. A familiar face...the one that should not have descended down those stairs. An uncaring grumble is the only thing that is emitted from this humanoid; a complaint of paperwork making their life harder. The cleric and party stare at the scum -- that they are -- as they leave the smoldering metal cage. Thoughts muddled and confused with eyes heavy from sleep not had, the questions continued from the priest to their group in hopes of answers.
How is one individual driven down to such depths? Answer: well there are many and not all are that simple. This instance had some reasons given but also those that still hid in the dark waters below. Secrets that should have not been kept and human rights that should have been kept.
Now a question for all of you. Should anyone be submitted to mental torture? Let me be more specific, shall I? Should someone be called worthless and stupid by those who are supposed to be leaders and teachers? Should someone be purposely given so little sleep that the mind becomes so lost that even simple tasks become impossible? Should someone who works hard be worked -- unfairly -- into their grave? Should someone operate objects that, with a tiny little slip, could cause an untimely demise and a painful one at that? Blood, sweat, and tears are even more real for some of us. It is not ones that are willingly given but squeezed and threatened out to fill in the cracks of the metal that was caused by all of those who had fallen before us. Because when one target falls, another must take its place after all….but who knew I would be next?
