Lost

He is trapped under a big rock.

He knows how heavy it is - he'd brought it down on himself. He knows it is impossible to lift, and he does not have the strength for it anyway. For a moment, he sees his future and it makes him cry out. It isn't the lack of purpose or the lack of promise, but the lack of time.

He's never prayed. Prayer is for those who aren't strong enough to help themselves.

But the rock is still there, and he knows with certainty that it is not going to move itself. He prays now. He pleads; asking God to get him out of this. Begging to be saved.

And suddenly, he realizes that he is underwater. He is underwater and there is an effing big rock on his back.

Desperation, coupled with the anxiety of knowing what is to come gives meaning to an emotion he recognizes as fear. Not fear of death, but fear of retribution.

It becomes clear to him that God is not going to answer his prayer.

And then he sees. Time stands still as he finally realizes that life was never what he thought it was. He had valued everything that counted within the lines; but his measurements had been wrong.

He did not ask for forgiveness. He did not deserve it.

His last words as the water filled the gaps were directed at God.

Please. At least take care of the kids.




[edit] i just read the hell weird story on cheng loon's blog and i have to say that i now feel that there is a trend for the macabre in today's youth. i mean, look at the ones on andrew's blog. this one's nothing compared to those.