A Rescue Mission by Boodie Shawky (inspirational books txt) 📕

I heard the voice, a distant wailing; someone was still alive under the rubbles. My vision was not clear, I tried to locate the sound but could not, something was on my way – I don’t know what was happening but I could not focus, the only thing in my mind was getting to the whomever was out there, he or she would certainly be needing help. Medical care, or at least a helping hand in these last painful hours of existence, when you know you are dying and there is nothing much you can do about it.  I tried to move further up the ruins but that something that was holding back was still there, what is it? As I moved I heard the sound again, it was an expression of utter pain, poor thing, it must be hurting as hell and it must be real scary lying there under the starless night sky, among the ruins of what was once your home and waiting for death to come and take you away from all that is familiar.

I hate wars, I have never understood why – why do we have to fight and for what exactly. Honour, freedom, liberty, glory, words, mere words. There was never honour or freedom or liberty or glory in death, there is only death in death.

Look at all those wars, World War I and World War II, all the little wars all over the globe, hell the whole universe is on fire – and over what – someone comes up with a crazy idea, and that someone just happens to be in the seat of power – to the misfortune of his fellow men – and wham – there you have it, war is at your doorstep. Young men enlisting in the army, carrying weapons, going places they’ve never even heard about before, killing people they didn’t even know existed.

That voice again! It is someone near me, I moved a little bit despite of the difficulty, I don’t know why it is so difficult to move about this place, I stumbled on something, it was a human body, so that’s where the wailing came from, that’s why it sounded so near. “Here” I told the body “Let me help you, I am here for you”. But when I reached out and turned the body over, I stared into unseeing eyes, the poor woman was dead, and she is hardly a woman, a girl.

And the new trend is attaching civilians, I have never ever heard of anything so appalling, who would have ever thought that was would come to this, slaughtering women and children in their beds, that airplanes would come roaring into our skies and attach innocent people inside their houses, is there anywhere safe in this planet?

Why should we fight over border lines? Why should one country try to take the land of another country? And who make border lines anyway?

Man has come a long way from fighting wild animals and conquering the forces of nature, and when all were tames to his will, he could not find anything else to fight but himself.

I looked around the tumbled building, I really have to focus and stop my raving if I want to find that person. As my eyes got used to the dark, I could see bodies all around me, I was not sure who was already dead and who was still alive, if only I could mover properly.  Poor things, I’m sure some of them were sleeping, and properly they still think they are asleep, not even knowing that they are dead. One man was playing with his grandson, a woman in the kitchen, a young teenage girl on the phone, a couple fighting and another couple making love.

The sound reached my ears again, in my desperation to reach out, I stretched my arms in the darkness to clutch into something to help me move, I have to get to whoever is making that sound before it is too late. My hand grabbed something, I curled my fingers around it, it was something small and cold, I brought it closer to examine it. It was a picture frame, I held it closer to my eyes, I even moved a little bit to let the wane light of the moon shine on the glassy surface, from somewhere inside me crept a distant feeling of panic – I know this frame and I know this picture, it’s the picture of my father. But what it was doing here was beyond my comprehension, last time I saw it, it was standing on the mantle piece just like it has always stood for the past seven years. I starred at the picture of the small aging man with penetrating eyes and the kindest smile this side of the moon.

I looked around, maybe someone in this building knew my father, knew him good enough to keep his picture – a reasonable enough deduction … unless, I looked around once more, the surroundings suddenly looked familiar, this was my building, this was my house, this was my neighborhood! My own quite and peaceful neighborhood, what happened, my poor house, my home – ruined, turned to wreckage.  Tears started trickling down my face as I looked around in desperation, and what happened to my neighbors; that sweet old woman who lived next door to me, poor thing, she might be the one hurting, I must find her despite of that stupid inability to move that had suddenly descended upon me, no wonder with the shock and all. Or it could be one of those children I used to stumble into everyday I came back from work, or maybe it is the young man who used to play the piano all night long, or maybe … maybe …. it's me! I looked down at my leg, it was soaked in blood, my chest was heaving and my clothes were bloody. Oh God! It was me all the time, all the wailing and hurt, it was me. I am the one who is hurt, I am the one who had just lost my home. I am the one who will be dead by the morning with no one to hold my hand as I slip away, with no one to mourn for me.

I will be in the newspapers and all over the world and no one will know that I am dead, me … some anchorman will say “A new attack was launched on the city, a building at the center of the city was bombed, there were no survivors, 130 bodies were found”.

And that’s about it … I had my past life trailing behind me, my future stretching in front of me, and all of a sudden, someone out there pushed a button and I became a number, a lousy number … it’s not fair, it’s just not.

Publication Date: 08-11-2014

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